


The Cleaners Room

by ap23



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pansmione - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Pansmione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 07:56:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 77,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11459325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ap23/pseuds/ap23
Summary: Sometimes extreme situations brings the unlikeliest people together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not canon, not timeline compliant, set in 6th year, but the twins are still at Hogwarts and Snape is potions Professor

Hermione massages her throbbing temples as leans back into her chair. She glances at her recently completed parchment, the words seem to blur together for how long she has been in library.  
Breathing in a slow deep breath as she rolls her shoulders gently a sense of peace washes through her tired muscles as she takes in her surrounds.  
The library has always been her sanctuary, her place to discover, her place to escape. Even as a little girl she would love her trips to the library. For most children a treat would be a trip to the ice-cream parlour, or to the fare, and whilst Hermione loved those things too, there was something magical about reading about faraway lands and twisting reality. Your imagination the only block, you could be a pirate, an astronaut or even a witch.

Sitting in the oldest section of the library she can't help but smile as she scans the ornate bookshelves with their delicate carvings and filled with books bound in red, green and brown leather all perfectly stacked, and cared for over hundreds of years by people with a profound love of literature.

She sighs blissfully at how the slivers of moonlight spill into the room, navigating between the wooden chairs and kissing the spines of her beloved books.  
It was a beautiful full moon, which hung like great luminous pearl surrounded by freckles of stars in the deep dark cloudless sky. It seems so close, like she could just reach out and touch it. 

She feels content and that is a rare feeling nowadays. Staring from the milky moon beams caressing the stone floor to the large bright moon she can physically feel the annoyances, the worries of her day and the anxieties of what's to come fade away.

"There is a reason your called ‘Grandmother Moon' isn't there?" she whispers "all knowing and always over-seeing our lives here on Earth."

Hermione signs, she doesn't want this moment to end but it's very late and she is the last in library. 

A tingle of pride runs through her and she automatically puffs her chest out a little at the thought that she has been entrusted with the password to the library to use whenever she requires. Only a handful of students over the years have been awarded such a privilege, Dumbledore himself being one.  
A little part of her couldn't help but think that Dumbledore was trying to arm her with as much knowledge as she could memorise for a war that may be just around the corner. 

Shaking that thought from her mind, Hermione slowly packs up her things and makes her way back to the Gryffindor common room.  
Her shoulders tensing a little at the prospect of Harry or Ron jumping immediately at her with new tales of Malfoy's Deatheater ploys, or worse Quidditch. Hopefully they will both be asleep she thought, it was the middle of the night after all. 

The hallways are quiet except for the sound of her lonely footsteps against the stone floor for the longest time.

But then Hermoine stops suddenly, she can hear footsteps echoing sharply around the deserted corridors sounding overly loud in her own ears. The steps are fast and frantic like someone is running. 

Probably just a student trying to run away from Mrs Norris she tries to convince herself, but she can't be sure. The threat of war has been brewing for some time now and Hogwarts is a prime target. Her heart begins beating fast against her chest, like that of a condemned prison awaiting their fate. 

Instantly grasping her wand she braces herself for who will turn that corner. Wand pointed she tries to hold her wand steady, a spell ready on her lips should she need it. She notices her wand shaking slightly. 

Barely having time to refocus her thoughts, the unknown person slams into her at a force that sends her back 3 or 4 steps. Her instant reaction is to grab either side of the individuals arms and hang on. 

The scream tore through Hermione like a sharp dagger. Hermione' s eyes widen and her pulse quickens, her heart thudding. The scream came again, desperate, terrified. It was the loudest most piercing scream she had ever heard. It sounded like a scream of wild panic. A scream of hysteria and deep fear, bordering on terror. Pansy Parkinson is standing before her screaming, her face flushed. In a panic Hermione's instincts take over, she begins aggressively shaking Parkinson into silence.

"Parkinson what in Merlin's name" 

Pansy eyes widened, her breath erratic as she stood stunned like she had just seen her first ghost.

"Were were we....wolf" she stammered out between tears and broken breath  
"What on earth are you...." began Hermione her sentence cut short by a howling screech.  
Her blood runs cold. She knows that sound all too well.  
The terrible snarling noises and images of her much loved Professor and friend Remus Lupin transforming into a frenzied werewolf were embedded deep in her psyche. 

"Run" she yells, her survival instinct kicking in. 

Dragging Parkinson with her they run as fast as they can in the opposite direction to the sound. 

Sweat forms on Hermione's skin, her eyes throb from the pace she is running. She can feel the oxygen burning her throat as it floods in and out of her lungs. Not exactly sure where they are running to, fear motivates her from stopping despite the pain. She feels rather than sees Parkinson falling behind her, she's been running a lot longer than Hermione and the exhaustion is starting to set in.  
Need somewhere safe to hide thinks Hermione  
"Quick over here" points Hermione  
"Alohomora" she says pointing towards a wooden door unlocking it and rushing Parkinson in. 

"Lumos" says Hermione lighting up the room. 

Breathing heavily she realises too late that this room is tiny, there is just barely enough room for both of them and worst of all they are now trapped. They easily bump into each other as they try to find a space and turn to the door wands poised. A dark cramped space with a damp odour filtrates their senses, they are surrounded by shelves filled with cleaning products, rags, a mop and bucket tucked in the very near corner. It's Filch's supply cupboard. 

"I'm going to die" pants Parkinson

"You're not going to die" Hermione replies unsure but it seems like the right thing to say to try and calm Parkinson down.  
Parkinson is leaning against the wall, inhaling deep frantic breaths, her eyes wide as she begins to rock back and forth. 

"I'm too young to die"

"You're not going to die" Hermione repeats her breath still short as she frantically looks around the room trying to get air into her lungs.  
"Think Hermione, think" she tells herself  
Fear is churning her stomach in tense cramps. She can hear the thumping of her heart against her chest. Her fingers are curled into a fist, her nails digging into the palm of her hand. 

"Colloportus" she says pointing her wand to the door locking it from the inside. 

"Oh that'll keep a werewolf out" pants Parkinson still out of breath "I'm going to die here with you" 

"Your not going to die" Like a record on repeat Hermione says automatically 

Hermione's mind is racing almost as fast as her heart as she tries to remember, everything she learnt from third year in Defence Against the Dark Arts. 

"Out of sight" she mumbles to herself as if checking off a list

"I'm going to die, I'm too pretty to die" Parkinson almost yells hysterically, her breath quickening. 

"You're not dying Parkinson shut up". whispers Hermione sharply

"Hearing. Werewolves have sharpened hearing, its their second strongest sense" Hermione whispers lowly to herself "they can hear the stutter of a heartbeat. Muffliato" she quickly says pointing her wand to the door. 

"Will that work on it" asks Parkinson in a panic 

Hermione's brain is in overload mode. The Muffliato spell fills the ears of anyone nearby with an unidentifiable buzzing noise, so it allows conversing without being overheard. Werewolves are part human so it might work, she hopes.

"I...I don't know, it's never been tested before" Hermione says trying desperately to maintain the panic out of her voice

"Merlin i'm going to die. I'm too young to die"

"You're not going to die" 

Both girls freeze staring at each other at the growling sounds coming from down the hallway. It's now reached the top the of the corridor they had just run down. 

Breathing faster than before Hermione begins to whisper to herself again, " other senses, think," she tells herself, "the werewolf has an exceptional sense of smell, it is the strongest of all the senses approximately 100 times stronger than humans. This explains how they have an uncanny ability to" she pauses, her skin feels like it is roasting "find prey in the dark". 

Hermione's muscles are frozen in place but filled with such a tingling pressure. Need to eliminate or at least confuse our smell she tells herself. 

" I'm going to die, in a cleaning cupboard, a pureblood in the servants room" Pansy says her voice noticeably shaking. 

"You're not going to die." The realisation of her surrounds striking like a lightening bolt "Cleaning cupboard. Brilliant Parkinson pass me the bleach and quickly" 

Parkinson's blank look frustrates Hermione, she wants to scold her for being such a Pureblood primadonna who has probably never had to raise a finger to assist with cleaning anything, but she can hear the gnawing rasping sounds getting closer. 

Reaching over Parkinson to the shelves above her head, she is practically leaning completely on top of her. Pressed against her, she can feel Parkinson's heartbeat speed match that of her own. She feels Parkinson's warm breath against her neck which sends an involuntary shiver down her spine as she grabs the bleach. 

Sweat rolls down her skin in thick salty beads. She can feel her heart throbbing inside her chest as she begins to pour the entire container of bleach into the door and floor, splashing their shoes in the process, before grabbing another bottle and doing the same.  
The potent eye watering smell engulfing the room instantly, causing her to woozily sway. Her brain feeling like it was being stretched pulled.  
Please let this work, please let this work Hermione silently prays 

" I'm going to die" 

"Shhhhh, you're not going to die"

The blood chilling sounds slowly edging closer

"I'm going to die a virgin"

"You're not going to...you're a virgin?" Hermione questions eyes open in disbelief. But Parkinson isn't listening her ears are focussed on the oncoming sounds. 

Hermione feels her cheeks heat up into a blush, embarrassed by her statements. It's funny how in extreme cases of pressure the brain latches onto irrelevant things to help ease the pressure of the moment. No wonder Ron is always constantly saying silly things given the scrapes they have found themselves in thinks Hermione 

The sound of claws dragging over stone and deep heavy breathing moving closer and closer louder and louder snaps her back to the moment. She grips her wand so tightly it makes her hands ache. Her chest tightens, she holds her breath, her ears are pricked, hyper-aware of the nearing sounds.  
The sounds pause and she knows just knows that the beast is in front of their door, sniffing the cool air. Her legs twitch fighting the impulse to break through the door and run. Her throat tightens, her mouth dries but she dare not swallow, pure terror surging through her veins.  
Parkinson clings to her arm as if it the only lifeboat on a sinking ship. Her eyes wide in fear.  
Time moves slowly what is only a second feels like an eternity. A slight scrapping sound against the door has Parkinson digging her nails painfully deeper into her forearm. The blood draining from her face as it all moves towards her pounding heart.  
At least she's too petrified to scream thinks Hermoine

For the longest moment there is nothing and Hermione is convinced that at any moment the door will be ripped from its hinges and they will be torn to shreds. Not without a fight, she internally reassures herself.

Then the clicking sound of long sharp claws against the stone floor resumes moving slowly away from them. 

Hermione lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her body awash with relief. 

Moments pass neither girls move, petrified to the spot. 

Finally breaking the silence  
"Do you think it's gone? " whispers Parkinson slightly loosening her vice like grip of Hermione. 

Hermione couldn't explain in but despite the pain there was some comfort to Parkinson being so close, her perfume disguising some of the ammonia smell. 

"I don't know, but I think we should stay here, in case it's waiting somewhere"

Nodding in agreement Pansy presses her back hard against the wall away from Hermione. 

The silence in the air deafening. They rarely speak to each other and when they do it's generally an exchange of insults. They are not friends or acquaintances, in fact pure and simple they are enemies fighting on the opposite side of an impending war. 

As if the blood has finally returned to Parkinson's brain. "what do you mean by 'you're a virgin', like you are surprised?" 

Obviously not impressed with Hermione's assumptions about her character. Parkinson's hands are on her hips, her eyes sharp and challenging, reminiscent of all the times Hermione has challenged Ron after one of his insensitive comments. 

The questions catches Hermione off guard nervously she answers  
"Ssss sorry, I just assumed Malfoy"  
The look on Parkinson's face makes Hermione even more nervous "or Zabini, maybe Nott..."

Hermione can feel her heart picking up speed again as she gnaws on the inside of her cheek, she knows she is digging herself into a deep inescapable hole. She knows how this sounds. She also knows how offended and angry she would be if someone was insinuating she was sleeping around. She bows her head slightly in shame.

"Anybody else? Goyle? Crabb? The whole Quidditch team perhaps? What do you take me for?" Parkinson dares her. Her voice laced with anger "And what about you? she says pointing an accusing finger at Hermione "always hanging out with Potter and the Weasel, running off at all hours, busy on your knees taking it every way" her voice raising "or maybe ....."

She is cut off by the sound of a crashing noise in the not so far distance. 

"It's coming back" Parkinson gasps her voice laced with fear. 

The recent argument forgotten as Parkinson lunges and clasps onto Hermione.  
They have never been this close, ever. They only time they have ever touched has been when Parkinson has gone out of her way to aggressively bump or push Hermione in a confrontational way but here she is holding onto Hermione in deep terror. 

A deep distorted growl is nearing "it never left, we confused it a bit" Hermione whispers back. "Whisper only" 

Hermione's chest begins to constrict her breath becoming short again. Her feet and legs begin to tremble. 

The sound ceases yet again. The werewolf knows they are somewhere near, it's waiting patiently for them to make an error, a trained hunter who knows it has the upper hand. It reminds Hermione of the cruel game Crookshank plays with a mouse he has captured. Slowly tormenting the poor little creature, playing and teasing it by throwing it in the air releasing them, letting them feel they may have escaped only to be dragged back with a giant claw. Exhausting them into submission. It never ends well for the mouse. She tries to save a many as she can but Crookshank is a keen predator. 

They both strain their ears to hear for any sound of the beasts next move. It's deadly quiet but for their quick breaths.  
Time moves slowly, she doesn't know how long they have been in this close position.

"I don't want to die a virgin either" whispers Hermoine. 

She's not sure why she says it. It's as if she is at a confession. It's Parkinson's turn to be caught off guard, her words drawing her to look directly at Hermione.  
Their eyes locking, Hermione's heart pulsates hard against her chest as her hand drifts towards Parkinson's waist. Confusion whirls, through her entire body. Her mind blank. 

Swells of emotions run through her as Parkinson inhales sharply and her breath quickens. Her body trembles beneath her fingertips. Hermione hesitates. What is she doing? Perhaps the fumes from the bleach are making her delirious. She's never ever even considered kissing a girl before, let alone Parkinson. Her stomach drops she's made a horrible error in judgement, if she survives tonight she'll be forever tormented by Parkinson and her cronies. 

All dread and confusion dissolves as Parkinson matches her action and places her hand on Hermione's waist  
drawing her slowly closer and closer. Ever so slowly and cautiously. Their eyes shift between each other's lips and eyes. Their breath mingles, the swirl of sensations churning within Hermione makes her dizzy as a warmth broils through her body.   Eyes still firmly locked on each other they gently move even closer. The air around them thickening with tension and desire. Hermione grazes her lips against Parkinson's, a jolt of searing excitement races through her as Parkinson's eyes flutter shut, her lips parting slightly, inviting her in. She's never been so bold. An electric shot of sizzling heat radiates in her stomach and in her pants as their lips meld into each other. The touch and taste of Parkinson's soft, warm lips causing her own eyes to close. There is a softness to the kiss that Hermione would never had expected. The way their lips move leisurely against each other clouds her mind. Shivers race down her spine as their tongues find each other.  
Hearing the sound of her own heart beating with desire as Parkinson traces her hands along Hermione's hip to cup her buttocks, pulling her closer, Hermione gently pushes Parkinson against the wall.  
A low moan escapes her as Parkinson wraps her leg tight around her waist pulling her flush against her body. Her breathing becoming  harder as her hand traces upwards along Parkinson's thigh, the softness of her skin on her fingertips creating a longing pressure in her pussy, that continues to build as her hand carcasses up towards Parkinson's underpants. Her fingers timidly trace the edges of her underwear. She lets out a deep groan as Parkinson's fingers lightly trace along her hips to beneath her shirt towards her breasts. Their kisses becoming harder and feverish. The sounds of Parkinson's groans into her mouth building a desire she has never experienced before.  
The insatiable need to touch and feel Parkinson driving her hand upwards to beneath her underwear. 

"Albus, Albus 2 students are missing"  
The panicked voice of Professor MacGonigall freezing Hermione and Parkinson in their spot. 

Breaking their lips apart both girls look down at themselves. Their chests heaving. Hermione's hand is firmly up Parkinson's skirt just as Parkinson's is up her shirt. 

Mortified at the prospect of their Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster finding them in this compromising position of two horny teenagers, they forcefully push away from each other, and stare at each other in shocked disbelief. It has to be the fumes from the bleach that made them act so out of character, Hermione tells herself. 

Still dizzy with excitement and surprise she barely registers what she is doing. She's astounded by the speed that she opens the door, she needs to get out of here. Her heart racing for the umpteenth time this evening, but for completely different reasons.  
"Were in here" she calls out, her voice noticeably shaken.

Standing before her is both Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall dressed in a tartan nightgown and nightcap. 

The look on Professor McGonagall's face shifts from surprise to relief in an instant. 

"Oh thank Merlin" she says clasping her chest "you poor things look at you, so disheveled and shaking with fright" 

Hermione can feel the heat radiating from the base of her spine all the way To her face in embarrassment. She can only imagine how red her cheeks are. She dare not look in Parkinson's direction for she is sure she will give away exactly why they looked such a sight. 

"Come, let's go to my office for a nice cup of tea" Professor Dumbledore says in a soothing voice.


	2. Moonflower

Taking deep steady breaths she winces slightly as the crisp coolness of the night air burns her nostrils. The fresh air clearing her foggy thoughts with every step she takes. Hermione follows the footsteps of the professors almost robotically as she struggles to push the swirl of images of her hands on Parkinson's smooth body out of mind. Her pulse pounds in her temples, like a stampede of Hippogriffs as she tries to make sense of what just passed between them.

It had to be the fumes coupled with the fear of death that drove them to act so rash and out of character, that's the only logical explanation Hermione tells herself yet again.

Casting a sideways glance at Parkinson, Hermione notices that her face is rigid with tension. Her eyes fixed firmly ahead on the back of Professor Dumbledore's bright green bed robes. Her posture strong, erect yet still graceful. As her eyes drift to her lips, the corner of Parkinson's mouth twitches and Hermione swiftly looks away to focus on something other than Parkinson.

Her mind betrays her thou and reluctantly drags her back to their time in the cleaners room building an almost unbearable tension within her. _Her lips were soft, so was her skin against her fingertips. I wonder if we actually would have.... Stop it!_ she internally scolds herself _what on earth are you thinking. It was the fumes, nothing more nothing less._

"Lemon drops" Professor Dumbledore's calm voice snapping her back attention.

So deep in thought, she hadn't even realised they had arrived at the Gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmasters office.

" Follow me Ms Parkinson, Ms Granger" says Dumbledore a hint of amusement in his tone that Hermione can't quite place.

Hermione lets Parkinson go first up the tight spiral stairs which she instantly regrets. The tightness of the thin staircase and the slowness that they ascend the stairs barely leaves any space between Hermione and Parkinson. More to the point her eyes are in perfect view of Parkinson's rear.

Hermione swallows hard, her throat restricts slightly. Parkinson's backside is so close to Hermione that she can easily make out the movement of muscles beneath the thin skirt as she climbs the staircase. She had never noticed how perfectly curvaceous her derrière is before.

Hermione's hand twitches as she is overcome with the temptation to reach out and touch. _She's got a really nice bum, so curvy and peachy_ she thinks.

 _Hermione Jean Granger, what on earth are you thinking_ a stern voice inside her head scolds _this is Parkinson and a girl!_

Her heart races at the realisation, and she instantly casts her eyes down deciding to focus on her black shoes as they tap against the grey marble floor.

 _No fumes in here, what's your excuse now?_ another tinier voice whispers somewhere in the back of her mind.

Head down and so deep in concentration, she hadn't noticed Parkinson stop abruptly at the top of the stairs until she bumps directly into her, her face dangerously close to the spot she had just been admiring a few moments earlier.

Parkinson stiffens and inhales sharply at the touch.

"Sorry" murmurs Hermione quickly pushing past Parkinson towards Dumbledore's desk, her face burning up in embarrassment.

How she longed to back in the Gryffindor common room. She would even take listening to Ron talk about Quidditch than spend another moment in this office, her body feeling hot all over like she had a horrible bout of dragon pox.

 _Could this night please just end_ Hermione prays.

Hermione couldn't blame Parkinson for stopping abruptly as she entered, the office, for Professor Dumbledore's office was like no other.

A spacious room filled with an abundance of interesting noises and little bits of silver equipment emitting puffs of smoke. An emporium of fascinating tidbits. Fawkes the beautiful Phoenix sits proudly in the corner, preening his crimson feathers with his long

gold beak. The walls covered with portraits of past headmasters and head mistresses all of whom were in a flurry with their hurried whispers about the evening's events.

Being a good friend of Harry Potter's meant she had seen the inside of this office many times for good and bad news. Many other students would go through their entire schooling years without entering this office.

"Please sit down ladies," Dumbledore says nodding towards the chairs in front of the large claw footed desk. "Tea?" he offers holding up a pot.

Hermione sits primly in the winged armchair, her legs crossed at the ankle and fingers intertwined over one knee, not daring to look at Parkinson. Her stomach knotting in unexplainable anxiety.

Professor Dumbledore sits himself down behind the desk, places his two index fingers together and rests them against his lips together, a devious twinkle in his eyes. The silence between them is unbearable, it hangs in the air and seeps into Hermione's skin, tensing her body uncomfortably, so much so that she just wants to leap from her seat and tell the professors everything just for some reprieve.

The door bursts open, Hermione jumps like a skittish kitten. In walks Snape, his long black cloak flowing behind him, wand in hand, his coal- black eyes sweep the scene. Hermione's heart instantly drops. Professor Snape has never hidden the fact that he does not like her.

"Ahhhh Severus, just who I was waiting for. I trust that all is well?"

"Yes, Headmaster, the hound has been impounded"

"Lovely. Now Ms Granger, Ms Parkinson" Dumbledore says turning to look at both girls "can you tell us what occurred this evening?"

The murmurs from the portraits halt, all eyes and ears are focused on her. Hermione's stomach tightens and aches with nerves. She swallows hard, her throat clenching, but no matter what she could not stop the warm feeling rising through her body as if the Professors were aware of exactly what occurred between her and Parkinson.

The nerves overtaking her thought process, Hermione rapidly explains the events of the evening. Her mouth running faster than a locomotive, she rapidly explains everything, from the moment she left studying in the library until she bumped into Parkinson and they ran into Filch's cleaning room.

Barely catching her breath, Hermione launches into the spells and the use of bleach to confuse the senses of the werewolf.

All the while Parkinson sits so stiffly and with a straight back reminiscence of Professor McGonagall’s stern posture.

"Interesting," says Professor Dumbledore

"Indeed" interrupts Professor Snape, his black eyes peering over his large hook nose "I myself am interested in understanding why a student from my house was out of bed past curfew. Care to elaborate Ms Parkinson, or ... " Snape pauses his beady eyes boring straight into Parkinson "has the cat got your tongue?"

Hermione's cheeks burn hotter than dragons’ breath. Harry would swear that Professor Snape could read minds. Never before had Hermione hoped Harry was wrong as she did in this moment.

Hermione watches as Parkinson shifts uncomfortably in her seat, there's a slight tremor in her chin.

"Collecting some Nottingham Cathchfly and Moonflowers" Parkinson whispers, her voice raspy.

"Moonflower and Catchfly" Professor McGonagall repeats slowly "the ingredients for that ridiculous anti-ageing potion I've heard Ms Brown yammering on about after reading something in Witch Weekly?"

"And I believe" interject Professor Dumbledore calmly "for maximum potency that the best time and place to collect these is during a

Sanguine full moon and near the forbidden forest?" peering softly over his moon glasses at Parkinson "am I right in assuming that is where you were, and perhaps the beast tracked you into the castle?"

Parkinson merely bows her head and nods.

Hermione stares at Parkinson in disbelief. She can't believe what she is hearing. Her jaw clenching, a beauty potion that is the reason they were almost attacked by a werewolf and the reason they even got themselves into this mess, the reason they even kissed. What an idiot.

Of course Harry, Ron and herself had been out past curfew and even ventured into the forbidden forest but it was always for a good reason, never as something as idiotic as a beauty potion.

"Are you serious? A beauty potion" Hermione's voice raises unable to contain herself "a beauty potion, I... we could of .... we almost... “coherent thoughts escaping her "for a beauty potion. Could you be any more vain and idiotic?"

"They can be used for more than beauty potions Granger" Parkinson sneers facing Hermione, her tone harsh, her eyes flashing with hate. This is the Parkinson that Hermione is accustomed too.

"Indeed, they can, of course," Dumbledore smiles knowingly "I almost forgot, combined they have tremendous healing properties, particularly against shall we say darker spells. However, I am not the potions master in the room" he says turning to Professor Snape

"Yes. That is correct" drawls Snape his eyes still firmly fixed on Parkinson

Hermione furrows her brow in confusion, _why would Parkinson need healing potions for dark spells, she's likely to be the one casting them and why haven't I read about these healing properties in any of the books in the library_ she thinks.

"Ah with great treasures comes great danger. I'm sure Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey would appreciate your collection of rare flora for Hogwarts supplies" says Dumbledore interrupting her thoughts once more.

"I dropped them near the entrance" confesses Parkinson

Hermione can't help but scoff, earning her a glare from both Parkinson and Professor Snape.

"Never mind, perhaps we will be fortunate enough to retrieve some." Dumbledore adds calmly "Ms Granger for sheer bravery and ingenuity 20 points to Gryffindor and Ms Parkinson, for breaching curfew and venturing to the forbidden forest 20 points from Slytherin. Now I don't know about you but I think that's enough excitement for the evening. Back to your common rooms, your professors will escort you". says Dumbledore dismissing the room

"Oh and I trust we can keep this evening's adventure discreet. We wouldn't want other students getting ideas" smiles Dumbledore nodding towards Hermione.

Back in her dorm, Hermione sits down heavily on her bed, she seems almost to fall into it. Her mind a blur like her brain cells have been scrambled.

The moonlight beams through the window casting a cascade of light shadows over her bedspread. Surrounded by the soft deep breathing sounds of her sleeping roommate her head falls back into her pillow as the memories of the evening surge to the forefront of her mind, in particular, the images of Parkinson's leg wrapped around her waist.

Tracing her finger tips against her lips, _What in Merlin's name happened tonight?_ she ponders letting out a deep breath.

Her lips still burn from the taste of Parkinson's touch. The thought of Parkinson's hands on her skin reigniting the tension built inside of her. She replays the moment they lean into each other for a kiss, the way Parkinson's soft tongue caressed hers, the little moans she expelled. Pins and needle prickle down her spine to her very core of her womanhood.

Grazing her teeth over her bottom lip Hermione cautiously traces her hand down her stomach to the top of her skirt, running her fingers gently along the band. Pausing momentarily it feels wrong to even consider delving down deeper with sexual thoughts of Pansy Parkinson in a room full of her friends. Curiosity and an overwhelming ache override any hesitation as she slips her hand beneath her skirt into her pants. Eyes shut tight, she bites her lip as her fingers explore her wet silken flesh, painfully biting back a groan as the tip of her finger skims against the button of pleasure. Pressing her cheek into the cool soft pillow, a soft moan escapes as she adds a second finger stroking in strong circular motions. Her muscles relaxing with every stroke, images of undressing Parkinson play in her mind.

Her eyes shoot open; a jolt of adrenalin runs through her, her hand stills at the sound of a roommates mattress creaking and groggy moan. She holds her breath and waits for silence again.

Slowly removing her hand from her pants, Hermione lets out a deep breath, _this is so inappropriate_ , she reminds herself.

Left frustrated and unsatisfied her eyes trail the moonbeams, following them to the enormous bright moon smiling down at her almost mockingly,

"This is all your fault" she whispers.


	3. House Points

Hermione was in such a deep slumber she barely registered the hands on her shoulders shaking her awake.

"Mmmm" she mumbles completely exhausted from the previous evening’s antics.

She tries to burrow herself deeper into her fluffy quilt and ignore the intruder for a few more peacefully minutes.

"Hermione, Hermione, is it true, you and Parkinson?" the words from the frantic and excited voice finally registering.

Hermione's eyes shoot open every thought in high motion and definition. Her heart pounds like she has just finished a marathon. Waking up faster than having just being plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water. Every muscle is frozen in place. Standing above her is Ginny, eyes alert and focussed on Hermione like a hawk. _How did Ginny find out about her and Parkinson kissing? Parkinson must of told. Oh my god, what do I say, Can I just deny it ?_

Her chest restricts as if she is being strangled by the very air around her.

"Wh...what" she manages to squeak out

"You and Parkinson" Ginny's repeats almost excitedly. Her hands still firmly placed on her shoulders.

Hermione's brain is on fire. She feels vomit rise in her throat, her body becoming hot all over.

"You saved her life. From a werewolf." It was more of a statement than a question.

Hermione's shoulders sag in instant relief. She lets out a deep relaxing breath.

"Oh that" she says nonchalantly

"Oh that! What do you mean oh that, you fought off a werewolf for Parkinson" her voice full of admiration "and you got us 20 points as well"

Hermione gave Ginny a small smile as she visualised the red rubies tumble down in the House point hourglass, 20 points would edge them just above Ravenclaw and with Parkinson losing 20 points for Slytherin they would definitely be above them now.

Despite the impending war, house points still mattered. Every day students would look at the four giant hourglasses filled with the vibrant yellow, blue, red and green gems located in the Entrance Hall, curious to see how many points had been awarded or deducted. It was as if those hourglasses with the brightly coloured gems were a symbol of normality in a very insane time. They were something to concentrate on other than the cloud of uncertainty and impending doom bearing over them. It was as if they were a symbol that they were still just children. The winning and losing of house points is a welcome distraction to the horror, fear and grief that inevitably came with war.

"How did you know?" wondered Hermione furrowing her brow

"The portraits" Offered Ginny shrugging her shoulders "Anne Boylen's portrait near the second floor landing told Barnabas the Barny's portrait who told Damara Dodderidge's picture near the grand hall but apparently she already knew because she saw the werewolf walk past according to The Fat Lady"

Hermione just stares at Ginny _so much for being discreet like Dumbledore wanted_ she thought

"Anyhow Harry and Ron are downstairs, they are beside themselves. Ron even tried to climb the stairs to your dorm, he slid down so fast the flew into the mantelpiece near the fire” Ginny advised giggling

 _Harry and Ron are bound to have a thousand questions_ thinks Hermione and Harry always seems to know when she isn't telling him the whole truth. She needs time to prepare herself.

"I'll be down after I shower, please tell them not to worry".

"Of course" says Ginny giving Hermione a quick hug before dashing out of the dorm.

Showered and dressed Hermione makes her way down the stairs to the common room; she can hear the nattering of her Gryffindor family loud and clear.

"I'm telling you Harry, bloody Parkinson set this up to kill Hermione" the strong adamant voice of Ron bounces up the stairs

"Ron, I don't think that's what happened" Harry the voice of reason says trying to calm Ron.

Hermione could tell by his tired tone that they had obviously been having this same discussion for some time.

"Why would Parkinson, use something as unpredictable as a werewolf" asks Neville

"She's a Slytherin, evil and that's what they do. I'm telling you this was a set up to get Hermione"

"Something isn't right, but I don't think Parkinson did it to hurt Hermione in particular" says Harry "if it was Malfoy, maybe"

"How can you say that? Is so obvious that Parkinson has it for Hermione"

Taking in a deep breath Hermione braces herself as she enters the common room. As expected the moment she steps down that final step she is accosted by Ron.

"Hermione, what did Parkinson do to you? Did she hurt you? What happen? What did she do?"

The questions come thick and fast she barely has time to answer one before another is fired at her.

"Did she touch you? If she even laid a finger on you I'll...I'll..."

Hermione's cheeks heat up and her stomach clenches in guilt _if only you knew_ Ron she thinks

"Hermione" Harry's voice barges through Ron's interrogation "Are you ok?" he asks softly

Hermione smiles thankfully at Harry "I'm ok, thanks Harry"

"What happen?" he asks, concern written all over his face

Like a teacher entertaining her pupils during story time all eyes and ears are completely focussed on her. Taking another deep breath Hermione launches into the previous evenings antics explaining everything minus the detail regarding her and Parkinson's embrace.

"What the bloody hell was Parkinson doing collecting flowers" says Ron sceptically

"To make a healing potion" replies Hermione

"Flowers! As If that is true, did you see these oh so magical flowers?" Questions Ron his arms folded across his chest

"She dropped them"

"Likely story and what was she going to do with them?"

"I told you, to brew a powerful potion" huffs Hermione, tiring of all the questions

"I doubt that. I'm telling you she did this on purpose"

As quiet as Harry is during this exchange Hermione notices his squint his eyes as if he is deep in analysis. _He knows, he knows something_ , thinks Hermione.

Panic and fear building within her, it drives her to lash out.

"Ron, honestly, stop!" Snaps Hermione's "Parkinson did not do this on purpose." Her hands firmly on her hips "can we please just stop talking about Pansy Parkinson and go to breakfast".

Hermione has more pressing issues to worry about. The continual mention of Parkinson's name building a tension in her body, her shoulders feel hard and heavy like concrete. Her stomach twists and clenches at the prospect of facing Parkinson this morning. The walk towards breakfast was filled with whispers and theories. Students watch Hermione with deep interest. It was something she was accustomed too . It wasn't too unusual, having been friends with Harry had meant they were often the recipients of sideway glances, whispers but normally the brunt of the focus was on Harry, herself and Ron merely bodyguards. Today, however she was in middle her two best friends who were flanking either side of her ready to protect and defend her should the need arise.

The not so silent whispers followed her down the hall.

"She fought off a werewolf...she saved Pansy Parkinson's life...Parkinson let a werewolf into the castle."

Hermione scoffs at the ludicrous comment from some second year Ravenclaw accusing Parkinson of being the werewolf.

"Honestly Harry, how do you do it" she says more as a statement to herself than anyone else.

She straightens her shoulders as they reach the large wooden door of the great hall. Her heart thumps at the prospect of seeing Parkinson again. Her mind runs in overdrive as she creates an array of embarrassing scenarios. She imagines that last night was one big joke and she was set up by the Slytherin's somehow. Her heart pounds faster than she thought humanly possible. Bracing herself for ridicule Hermione is completely surprised when she is welcomed to the hall with the loudest cheer, mainly from the Gryffindor table. Her cheeks burn in embarrassment. A large flash blinds her momentarily, Colin Creevy with camera in hand snaps a photo of her unaware, while the Weasley twins chant and yell "Granger will protect us from danger, Granger will protect us from danger" which turns quickly into "Granger danger"

Her cheeks still flushing pink, Hermione casts a quick glance towards the Slytherin table. Parkinson seat is vacant. Relief, along with a twinge of disappointment runs through her. Sitting down at the Gryffindor table Hermione can't help but wonder where Parkinson is.

"Well done Hermione" says Fred excitedly

"Slytherin, are not happy" pipes in George with glee

Hermione turns back to the Slytherin table, indeed they all looked darker than usual.

"Upset that their precious Parkinson lost them so many points" says Fred nodding towards the house hour glasses. Slytherin have slid down to last place.

A hush crosses the great hall, students stare at the entrance before a ripple of panicked whispers begin. Turning, Hermione notices Parkinson enter the Great Hall. Unlike Hermione, she did not receive the same raucous welcome she herself had received only moments earlier. Hermione feels a dull blow to her pit of her belly. A cluster of tiny energetic butterflies flutter in the pit of her stomach, she furrow her brows at the realisation that a small very confused part of her was looking forward to seeing Parkinson again. Hermione swiftly looks away to the banquet before her. Despite the delicious amount of food, her appetite has disappeared.

Professor Dumbledore stands to address the hall, looking perfectly calm as he watches his student mutter themselves into silence.

"The very best of mornings to you! I must bother you with an old man's waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious breakfast.” He smiles “I would like to remind you all that the forbidden forest is forbidden to all pupils." Dumbledore cast his eyes across the hall "Last evening two students encountered an unwelcomed visitor"

"That's putting it bloody lightly" mumbles Ron glaring at the Slytherin table

"I would like to assure you all that there is nothing to fear and that precautions have put in place to ensure that something like this does not occur in the foreseeable future" Dumbledore continues calmly and slowly "in my haste I was remise in awarding some additional house points" Dumbledore states looking over at the Slytherin table "Miss Pansy Parkinson ... for daring Intelligence that would impress any potions master", he says nodding towards Snape "and for providing our school invaluable and rare ingredients for our infirmatory I award Slytherin House 40 points. Now enjoy your breakfast" He says before sitting back down at the Professors table.

A collective gasp is heard from students amongst the cheers from the Slytherin table. The green emeralds trickle down into the hourglass and Slytherin is once again a strong contender for the house cup. All of the sudden Parkinson is popular again among her Slytherin classmates, who are clapping her on her back.

"40 points" complains Ron "potions will be bloody unbearable today"

"What?" asks Hermione

"Potions" Ron replies shoveling a spoonful of scrambled eggs into his mouth "We've got double potions first up with them" he says pointing his fork that had just stabbed a sausage at the Slytherin table "You sure you alright, not like you to forget about class"

Hermione's mouth dries up like a desert, she had forgotten about double potions. Her plan of attack so far was to avoid Parkinson until graduation in a couple of years’ time.

"Yes, yes fine" she assures Ron trying her utmost to keep her voice level

Her heart beats faster. She remembers reading somewhere about an alternative doctor claiming that a person only has a certain number of heartbeats in a lifetime and vigorous exercise makes your heart beat faster thus reducing your life expectancy. _If that's the case the way my heart has been racing the last 24 hours I'll be dead before our potions lesson I suppose that's something positive_ she thinks

Laughter erupts from the Slytherin table.

Hermione freezes convinced that the cruel laughter is directed at her, Parkinson has just told them she panics she can't believe this is happening, her head begins to spin. _I'll never live this down as long as I'd live. People would be reminding me of this until I am old and grey. Perhaps I can obliviate everyone's memory, I wonder if anyone has done that before....._

Despite her best efforts she can't help but turn towards the Slytherins, bracing herself for the taunts.

Nothing.

The laughter is directed at Goyle for some reason. She chances a glance at Parkinson, who is completely focussed on her plate swirling her breakfast about as if it's a strange puzzle she has to solve. The image of Parkinson pressed against the wall, her hand up Hermione's shirt flashes before her. A searing hot flush races through her body that she instantly has to turn away. Her body feels on fire, pins and needles course through her embedding themselves in her belly and pants. She needs to take a deep calming breath to ground herself.

Hermione swears that breakfast ends faster than it ever has before the walk to the potions class is even quicker than usual. A strange concoction of dread and excitement mix in her belly, clouding every step she takes. _What is happening to me, has the fumes from the bleach permanently affected my brain?_

Operating on auto- pilot she takes her usual seat between Harry and Ron in the dimly lit classroom, refusing to look over at Parkinson who is seated a few tables down.

Professor Snape swoops in just as Hermione is setting out her parchment and quill, his black cloak billowing behind him. Turning to face the classroom he speaks in barely more than a whisper, but you never miss a word he says, Professor Snape has the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. His usually cold empty eyes have a glint of delight to them almost like Dumbledores twinkle but less friendly.

"Today we will be brewing the extremely difficult Wolfbane potion, so it is most fortunate we have a budding potions master amongst us" he says a small cruel smile curling his mouth "along with the" he pauses "the brightest witch of our age"

Hermione knows he is mocking her and shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

"Parkinson, Granger pair up" A triumphant smile flickering across his face. "The rest of you find partners, now"

Professor Snape makes to turn from the class to begin writing the required ingredients on the board, but not before adding

"Wolfbane is highly dangerous when concocted incorrectly. Do try not to kill yourselves"

Hermione's stomach locks up tight and is heavy like it’s full of lead, her teeth grind, her mind worryingly blank. Her feet are stuck to the ground she is unable to move, struck with shock. She barely registers the comforting squeeze Harry gives her arm before moving to find a partner. She should protest she should move but instead she is petrified to her seat. Dazed like she has been drugged the scraping of the stool beside her draws her attention. Parkinson sits in the spot Ron was sitting not less than 30 seconds ago. Her heart pounds with futility against her rib cage, it's so loud she is convinced that everyone can hear it. She should say something, but what do you say it's as if the part of her brain that controls speech has packed its bags and gone on holiday. She knows she is staring at Parkinson like stunned mullet but there is nothing she can do about it. Parkinson's eyes wander around the classroom but hers are locked on Parkinson. Thankfully Parkinson saves her from having to fulfil the difficult task of speaking.

"I'll go get the ingredients" Parkinson says before moving towards the potions cupboard.

She can't tell what Parkinson is thinking let alone feeling. Swallowing hard all Hermione can do is watch her as she walks towards Snape's cupboard, her eyes automatically drifting down her slender back to her backside. The blood drains from Hermione's face and pumps all the way down to inside her pants creating an unbearable tingle. She feels her cheeks and body flush hot, _what is happening to me_ she asks herself fearfully. It's as if her mind and body are at war with one another _Get a grip, and focus on the potion_ she tells herself giving herself a good shake.

She has to deal with this the only way she knows how to, throw herself into study. When Parkinson returns, with ingredients in hand, Hermione has talked herself into being somewhat normal despite the erratic beating of her heart and an uncomfortable dull ache in her pants that she would rather not think about.

"This is almost impossible, she informs Parkinson her eyes focussed on the instruction parchment "only Professor Snape has successfully brewed Wolfsbane at Hogwarts" She knows she is speaking fast. "I'm not sure why he has set this task, the ingredients are expensive and the main ingredient is Wolfbane of course, it's also known as aconite or monkshood” she's rambling "aconite is a very poisonous substance that's what makes the potion dangerous"

She feels Parkinson move marginally closer to read the instructions she is holding. Hermione's heart skips a beat and faster than lightening she places the instructions parchment on the table between them, to act as some sort of barrier. Every fibre in Hermione's body wants to talk to Parkinson about their kiss, so they could both agree that it was a momentarily lapse in judgement bought on by the fumes, and move on and put the events behind them and more importantly put an end to these unusual thoughts Hermione is having. But now was most definitely not the time.

Placing the ingredients into order, Hermione waits for Parkinson to finish reading the steps on the parchment, her lip pouts slightly as she reads and Hermione has such an urge to bite it, to kiss it....

"Let's get started" Hermione states briskly.

The thoughts she is having scaring her more than anything. They work in silence, neither girls daring to speak as they slowly and methodically prepare the ingredients. Preparation was the most important part of potion making, it was not only ensuring you had exact measurements but that you chopped or sliced when required. Choosing to slice an ingredient could yield very different results to chopping. To Hermione's pleasant surprise Parkinson seemed to understand this too.

Time moves slowly. More than half the lesson has already passed and they have yet to start mixing the ingredients. Hermione slowly realises that this potion will take longer than 1 double potions session to develop. The complexity of the potion distracting Hermione from Parkinson's near vicinity somewhat, that is until Parkinson's perfume drifts in through Hermione's nostrils, instantly transporting her back to the previous evening. A tingling sensation all over disrupts her ruse, causing her to breathe out deeply.

It was always cooler in the potions classroom than anywhere in the castle, but right now it felt like it was as hot as hell's mouth. She needs to cool down.

Hermione pulls her school jumper over her head, her long hair falling over her shoulders. She hears Parkinson emits a tiny gasp. The sound making Hermione squirm in her seat. _Could Parkinson be having the same thoughts as she is?_ This game of desire was becoming intoxicating. She felt short of breath.

Hermione hadn't noticed Snape prowl through the wooden desks until he was standing before the two of them peering into their cauldron

"My my my what a delightful couple" he pauses "of potion makers you two make" his lip curling into a sinister smile "carry on" he says before making his way to another desk

His words causing Hermione to falter, her hand slips.

"Merlin's beard" curses Hermione, at the painful stinging sensation at her fingertip.

Rather than slicing into the Valarien, she has knicked her finger. Blood seeps slowly like a lazy river to the surface of her skin. It's bright red colour a stark contrast to her pale skin. The cut was not deep but it would do no good to get any blood near the ingredients, it would ruin their entire potion. She looks to see if there is anything about to wrap around her finger until the bleeding subsides unfortunately there is nothing. She would have to ask professor Snape for assistance. She dare not imagine what he will say. But before she is able to raise her hand for assistance the painful pulsating in her fingertip stops almost as quickly as it began. The tip of Parkinson's wand is mere centimeters away from Hermione's wounded finger.  Her hand still partly raised Hermione looks between her finger and the wand a few times, stunned. Parkinson has healed Hermione's finger.

Looking at Parkinson she looks as shocked as Hermione is. Hermione's not sure if it's because she cast a perfect healing spell or because she cast the healing spell to help her. Their eyes meet for the first time since last night and Parkinson half smiles and cringes at the same time. It's as if she is as confused as Hermione is by her actions. It was only a very small smile, but it was enough to make Hermione go a little weak at the knees. Pin-drop silence hangs between them. _How is that remotely possible in a class full of students and with her heart somersaulting_ thinks Hermione.

She should say thank you but she can't find her voice. Her cheeks flush hot, and her stomach heavy. They stare at each other intently, daring each other to make some move, both refusing to turn away first. The tension building between them like hot lava ready to erupt through the earths crust.

"Put your potions on statis we will continue next week" the cool voice of Professor Snape causes Hermione to break the concentrated stare between her and Parkinson to face him. Hermione could have sworn she saw a sinister smile cross his face.

By the time she turns back, Parkinson has already packed her bag and is walking out the door, leaving Hermione not only confused and deflated but alone to clean up the mess they had just made.


	4. Tomes and Scrolls

Walking towards the library Hermione's head feels heavy and clouded, every thing and every conversation around her seems far away almost like being under water. She can clearly see what's going on around her but all the sounds and feel of things seem distant.

She is completely distracted by the repetitive thoughts of Parkinson and her growing confused feelings. 

Its lucky she had taken this same route to the library so many times before or else who know where she may of ended up. 

She is in such a daze she barely registers Professor Dumbledore and Professor Trelawney standing in conversation before her. 

Hermione was not one to disrespect teachers, but if there was teacher that she disliked even more than Snape, it was Trelawney. At least Snape was a competent professor, nasty but extremely competent. Trelawney on the other hand with her over-sized glasses and abundance of multi coloured bangles and shawls was nothing more than a fraud in Hermione's opinion. Plus Hermione has never liked her ever since Trelawney said to her in her third year that Hermione's heart was as shriveled as an old maid's, and her soul was as dry as the pages of her books she so adored. 

Dumbledore in his infinite wisdom has declared that divination class is a "compulsory elective" meaning all students had to take a Divination class at least once a month until 7th year. Hermione suspects it's because after third year most competent students dropped the subject and Trelawney would have nothing to do. Hermione moans inwardly at the thought of her next Divination class, it's shared with the Slytherin's. 

It's been days since her potions class and to date Parkinson and Hermione have successfully avoided each other. 

Everything was too confusing she needed time to work this out logically, and seeing Parkinson was not logical, for her mind could not control how her body was reacting. Her heart thankfully was staying neutral in this war between the two. 

"Ah Miss Granger off to the library I see?" Professor Dumbledore says casually, smiling at Hermione

There is a look on his face that Hermione can't quite place, almost mischievous.  

"My dear" the soft misty voice of Professor Trelawney begins, concern written all over face "the thing you dread will occur on November 11" 

It took every ounce of Hermione's energy not to roll her eyes at the professor. 

"Your aura is in a tangle, like a ball of yarn" Trelawney's ring cladded hands wave slowly around Hermione's hair "There are parts that are untangled, the rest is a mess, completely useless until it is untied. I shall go get some white sage for you my dear" she says before whisking off down the corridor 

Only a few more classes Hermione reassures herself 

"Pear Drop" offers Dumbledore holding out a tiny packet of the traditional sweets. 

Hermione smiles fondly. Her Grandma loves these hard boiled sweets. 

Popping one her mouth a comforting warmth oozes through her as she remembers the evenings sitting with her grandma watching detective shows on the BBC. Her lips curve into a little smile as she recalls how they came in pink and yellow and the light sugar they were dusted with would coat her fingers, her grandma rubbing some of the sugar dust onto her nose. Her grandma always let Hermione have the pink ones even thou they both tasted the same. Hermione shared a many pear shaped sweet with her grandma, while her parents were not looking.

"Until recently Lemon Drops were my favourite" Professor Dumbledore says "but that was until I discovered these. I was unaware of what I missing. Alas, sometimes things you were so sure of change after an delightful experience" he says peering over his moon shaped spectacles, his eyes twinkling. 

Hermione stops sucking on her lolly, she shifts uncomfortably from one foot to another. She swallows hard as his words hit a nerve. Instantly like so many moments over week her thoughts are dragged back to Parkinson. 

"Please excuse me Miss Granger, I have other matters to attend to" he says before making to turn down the corridor 

"Professor" Hermione calls after him, shaking off his previous comment "just a quick question, I have researched in the library for information regarding Moonflowers and Nottingham Catchfly, but have been unable to find anything substantial"

"Ahhh indeed, yes our library as vast as it is, it does lack some texts regarding darker topics"

"Darker topics?" questions Hermione 

Her heart drops fast. Was Ron right? Was Parkinson trying to make a dark potion to attack them with? She shouldn't be surprised, but perhaps she had hoped. 

"To understand how to use those ingredients for the purpose of good, you must fully understand which curses it heals and more importantly how those dark spells are cast. As you will no doubt appreciate, it's best not to have such texts readily available in our library. Perhaps if you wish to find out more, Miss Parkinson may assist" he says a devilish twinkle in his eye "I could ask.....

"Oh no no that's fine" Hermione hurriedly responds not letting professor Dumbledore finish "thank you, I'll visit Tomes and Scrolls when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend. I'm sure they will have something" 

The one thing she did not need was Dumbledore setting up a study date with Parkinson and how could Dumbledore be so sure Parkinson wasn't intending to make a dark potion for an attack? For such a wise wizard some of his actions and people he places his trust in like Professor Snape, were questionable at the best of times. 

"As you wish Ms Granger, good afternoon” he says nodding to Hermione before walking in the opposite direction to Trelawney. 

Hermione lets out a deep breath as the leans against the wall. The coolness of the stone seeping in through her shirt causing goosebumps to form all over her body. Hermione couldn't explain how she was feeling; a plethora of emotions swirl through her, Curiosity, nervousness, disbelief, fear, and even excitement was it even possible to hold such range of emotions in one moment? 

She knows she has to face Parkinson to talk about what happen or else these thoughts will continue to plaque her, hinder her from staying focussed on her studies and more importantly helping Harry defeat Voldemort. 

In fact she has visualised and planned exactly how the conversation between herself and Parkinson would go approximately 45 times now. She would thank Parkinson for healing her finger.  Parkinson would in turn thank her for saving her life from the werewolf. Not really comparable situation Hermione admits but she also doubts Parkinson will make the first move and Hermione desperately needs to nip this in the bud. They would then agree as adults that the kiss between them was induced by the fumes, they would also agree not to tell anyone ever and never speak of the incident again. Things would go back to the way they were. 

 Yes she would need to talk to Parkinson "but not today" she whispers aloud to no one in particular. 

Pushing off the wall Hermione resumes her walk to the library. She has been on edge all week, her thoughts continually replaying every encounter with Parkinson from the healing of her finger to their shared kiss. The latter creating a dull longing ache in her pants that she just not been able to satisfy. It’s a steady ache that intensifies when she allows her mind wander and fantasies past just their kiss.

Entering the library, she stops dead in her tracks her heart skips a beat before proceeding to pound hard against her chest. Her stomach lurches forward and somersaults. Parkinson is sitting at a table on her own. Panic creeps through her veins. This is her sanctuary, her space, her safe space from Parkinson.  

She is so surprised to see Parkinson that she is left dumbfounded and concreted to her spot. Hermione's eyes are glued to Parkinson, who is busy taking notes and not noticed Hermione.

 "Not today" Hermione whispers again and makes a swift u-turn out of the library. 

She takes no more than 3 steps before stopping, seriously Hermione, you have to face this eventually, do it now and you can move on a brave little voice in her mind reassures her you can do this, you've got it all planned out, just start with thank you 

Drawing courage from Merlin knows where, Hermione turns back into the library and heads towards Parkinson.

With every step, Hermione's pulse quickens, her legs feel heavy, she can feel sweat forming in the palm of her hand there's a tingling in her stomach that is intensifying as she moves closer to her destination. That nervous energy she has been feeling all week, is bubbling and simmering inside of her again. Just remember the plan, say thank you and the rest will follow she reminds herself. Panic pulses in the centre of her stomach. Taking a deep breath Hermione knows it was now or never as she stands before Parkinson's table

"Why did you heal my finger?" Hermione blurts out, placing her hands firmly on her hips. 

It was her aggressive and challenging stance and she knows it's. Her nerves get the better of her. _Well that was a good start_ Hermione internally scolds herself.

Looking up from her parchment Parkinson's initial look of wide eye shock is quickly replaced by a sharp intense stare. 

Hermione straightens her back, feels her heart drumming hard and fast against her chest as Parkinson leans back into her chair folding her arms across her chest, her eyes never leaving Hermione's, daring her to look away first. 

The nervous energy races through her legs, butterflies dance a fast and intense tango in the pit of her stomach as she waits for a reply that is not forthcoming.

The air around them thickening and crackling with electric tension. The growing silence between them gnaws at her, it hangs in the air heavy, like a blanket. Her body is swimming with conflicting emotions she simultaneously wants to walk away, to slap Parkinson, to shake her by the shoulders, to perhaps kiss her again. It takes every ounce of energy not to glance down at Parkinson's cherry lips at that last thought. 

None of this is making sense, she is starting to feel faint. All She knows is that she can't walk away or else Parkinson would have won. Won what she's not exactly sure but she just can't let her win. 

"Well?" Hermione demands. She needs to resolve this 

"Practice" answers Parkinson curtly 

The simple reply catches Hermione off guard. She doesn't know what she was expecting but she knows it was not that 

"Practice" repeats Hermione softly knitting her forehead in confusion

"In case you hadn't noticed, there's a war coming" 

 

Hermione feels a surge red hot anger race through her. Parkinson's words are laced with sarcasm and something else that sounds remarkably like anger too, perhaps annoyance. 

"Of course I bloody know a war is coming" Hermione spits 

"Shhhhh" she hears in the distance, but it does not stop her.

 Lowering her voice to a harsh, coarse whisper 

"Doesn't explain why you're learning healing spells. Shouldn't you be learning how to cast dark spells and unforgiveables?" Hermione whispers louder than she would ever normally speak in the library.

Her heart jolts as Parkinson pushes back her seat to stand face to face to her. 

"What makes you think I don't know them already?" 

There's a vicious challenge in Parkinson's eyes that sends goose bumps down Hermione's spine. 

They move dangerously close to each other, invading each other's personal space eyes locked, frozen between stand off and fighting. Hermione painfully digs her fingernails into her hips. Her heart bounds towards her chest, her mind churning in overdrive. They stare at each other intently daring the other to make a move.

She can feel rather than see that Parkinson is breathing heavily, 

The air around is so dense and full of indescribable energy that it's suffocating and yet she holds her ground. 

Her body is filled with a cyclone of conflicting emotions and feelings. She tries to remain calm and collected but stream of anger, frustration along with the overwhelming throbbing in her heart and between her legs is consuming her. She has never felt such a intense range of emotions before. She simultaneously wants to hurt Parkinson and kiss her, bite down on her lips. It takes every ounce of restraint not to grab Parkinson by her collar and crash their lips together. 

A scrapping of a chair in another aisle gives some reprieve to the moment. 

"You're not the only one who's going to be dragged into this war Granger" says the raspy voice of Parkinson 

"I don’t want to die. Not for anyone or anything" she adds before pushing past Hermione, knocking her shoulder hard as she leaves. 

Exhaling deeply, Hermione watches as Parkinson storms out of the library, her eyes instantly drifting down to Parkinson's backside. Shifting the weight from one foot to the other, she chews at her bottom lips, her loins throbbing, _well that went well_ she tells herself sarcastically.


	5. Hogsmeade

Hogsmeade weekend was always a highlight of the school calendar. The buzz of laughter and excited chatter in the Gryffindor common room before any trip was infectious. Ron along with Harry and Dean would excitedly discuss all the sweets they would sample from Honeydukes, Seamus' interests always lay with a trip to the Three Broomsticks Inn which Hermione suspected had more to do with Madam Rosmerta's low cut robes that highlighted her ample cleavage than the Butterbeer. Fred and George would have students in fits of laughter regarding all the jokes they would purchase from Zonko's joke shop and which pranks they intended on playing on poor unsuspecting students. They were particularly excited today as they had heard that Zonko's had developed a nose biting tea cup and both George and Fred were adamant that they would swop one of Professor Snape's tea cups for one of these nose biting cups. Even Hermione had to giggle at the vision of a brightly coloured tea cup hanging from Professor Snape's hooked nose. 

Hermione was particularly looking forward to this trip, not only could she finally visit Tomes and Scrolls to find out more about Moonflower and Nottingham Catchfly but it was the much needed relief from anything Parkinson.  
Everything at Hogwarts not only reminded her of Parkinson, but the constant fear of bumping into Parkinson and acting rash had her stomach knotted and twisted in uncomfortable nerves.  
Eventhou there is a big part of her that did not want to see Parkinson, there was an equally big part that hoped she would bump into her. Their latest encounter in the library had her in a spin mainly she longed to feel that intensity again. Desire was feeding her swirling emotions, gnawing at her at every moment. Thoughts about Parkinson and her growing want to touch her, growing each day it was getting hard to focus on anything else. It was as if she was under the Imperius Curse, something which she had already ruled out a few days earlier.  
She remembers what being under the Imperius Curse felt like from her Defense against the Dark Arts class, where Barry Crouch Jr who disguised as Alistair Moody placed them under the Imperius Curse "for teaching purposes" . That feeling was wonderful. It was as if she was floating on a giant cloud, every thought and worry was wiped away. She remembers being immensely relaxed. This feeling she had within her at this time was anything but relaxed. It was completely different. It was as if her body had been injected with liquid adrenalin, her nerves were constantly on the alert and the dull ache in her underwear she was walking around with was not going away anytime soon.  
Confusion over her feelings growing every day, she even tried a little experiment the other morning casting sideways glances at Lavender Brown while she changed to see if it stirred the same feelings and want as Parkinson did. It didn't. 

There was no denying that Lavender Brown was attractive, Hermione could see why the boys liked her, she has nice curves and perky breasts and whilst she was certainly nice too look at and potentially touch, maybe even kiss, she just did not stir the same emotion that Parkinson did, particularly when Hermione glanced down to Lavender's backside. It was lovely but it just wasn't that same peachy squishable shape as Parkinson's. She even took to admiring Dean from afar, he was by far the most handsome boy in their year, and whilst she could imagine kissing him, and enjoying it, it just didn't create the same tingling sensation as visualising kissing Parkinson.  
The experiments left Hermione more confused than ever about her sudden attraction to Parkinson. 

Today she had decided she was going to put Parkinson out of her mind and enjoy her day at Hogsmeade with her friends. 

"We've got them"

"Tea anyone?" 

An excited Fred and George come bounding towards Hermione, Ron and Harry holding up a brightly coloured package from Zonko's as the trio make their way into Hogsmeade.  
"What?" asks a confused Ron

"Nose biting tea cups Ronikins" 

"Or should we say nose biting tea-cher cups" pipes in Fred with glee 

"Hang on" interjects Hermione "Them? How many did you buy?"

"How many professors are there?" A mischievous George replies nudging Harry in the ribs with his elbow 

"You can't" says Hermione in shock disbelief 

"Can't what?" Ron asks looking between his brothers and Hermione

"Come on, lets go to the Three Broomsticks and work out the second part of the plan" George says ignoring Hermione's protest and already heading towards the inn with Fred in tow. Both having an extra bounce in their step 

"You can't!" Hermione calls out after them 

"Can't what?" says Ron his frustration growing 

" I want no part of this" huffs Hermione 

"Harry, what in Merlin's baggy pants is going on? " Ron practically yells 

"Honestly Ron, were you so focussed on eating sweets from Honeydukes you missed everything Fred and George had said this morning?”

" They've got new chocolates Hermione, and something called pepper imps, that actually lets you breath fire. Like a dragon" Ron replies defensively 

"C'mon Ron, I'll explain on the way." Harry says starting to make his way towards the Inn. Putting an end to the discussion before his two best friends began fighting "Hermione you coming?"

"Go ahead I need to get to Tomes and Scrolls"

" More books" whines Ron "You're always reading, come have some fun" 

It wouldn't kill that boy to open a book every now and then thinks Hermione 

"We'll come with you" says Harry before Hermione could scold Ron 

"Harry" says Ron in wide mouth shock 

Harry had become more worried about his friends, ever since the return of Voldemort, never wanting them to be alone, forever watching over them. He had seen death first hand, lost a lot of loved ones in his life, more than anyone his tender age should have. 

"I'll be fine Harry, honest. Hogsmeade is full of students and professors" reassures Hermione rubbing Harry's arm affectionately  
Hermione could tell Harry was mulling it over. She needed to research and having Ron moan the entire time would do her no good. 

"Honest" she reassures him once again 

"Won't be too long?" Questions Harry, his voice and bright green eyes laced with concern 

Hermione notices the relief written all over Ron's face.

"I won't. I'll be there shortly to have a butterbeer or gillywater with you" she says giving Harry a quick hug before heading in the opposite direction. 

Hermione could hear Ron muttering about how disgusting gillywater is as she walks away

Breathing in the variety of sugary sweets and tea aromas that were escaping the vast array of shops hugging the streets, Hermione makes her way towards Tomes and Scrolls, admiring all the offerings of the surrounding streets as she walked. 

Picturesque is the only way to describe Hogsmeade. Quaint little cottages are nestled next shops with thatched roofs. There was something truly calming about this historic village, one couldn't help but feel relaxed walking along the cobbled streets and admiring all the small shops with their enchanted candles swinging in the windows. There was something uniquely appealing about Hogsmeade, it was a postcard perfect little village, perfectly romantic. It was too easy to imagine walking hand in hand with a lover along these streets. She caught herself before imagining who the lovers hand may be. 

Tomes and Scrolls suited Hogsmeade perfectly; large wooden framed windows showed of a variety of books, the candlelight in the window flickering a beautiful ray of colour onto the leather bound books. Front and centre was a stunning quill set tipped with vibrant feathers in a variety of colours red, green, yellow and blue, each matching the colourful ink nib. Hermione had never seen anything so beautiful. They took Hermione's breath away, they were stunning.  
Hermione smiles to herself as she reads the sign above the door specialist bookstore tantalising minds since 1768.

Pushing through the large heavy wooden door, Hermione was welcomed to Tomes and Scrolls by a overly energetic short plump woman, who she assumes must be the owner Mrs Lilith Fadington. 

Sitting proudly on the portly womans curly salt and pepper hair were a pair of bright purple square reading glasses, which perfectly matched her bright purple robes. She had a friendly round face and a wide happy smile but there was something in her eyes that said she was no push over either. Hermione instantly likes her. 

"Hello my dear, how can I help you?"

Before Hermione had a chance to reply she is being dragged towards the back of the store, almost tripping over her feet as she is pulled along by a very eager owner 

"Oohhhh tell me, have you seen or heard about our latest section for the inquisitive young or not so young mind?" 

Stopping in front a large new row of books, Ms Fadington claps her hands excitedly "Welcome to the confunded section"

"Excuse me" asks Hermione indeed confused

"It's a new section, it's to help young witches and wizards come to terms with changes they may be experiencing." she says passionately "Not all magic happens with a wand or potion" she pauses "although" she contemplates "I suppose that does depend on how imaginative you are with your wand hey" she says nudging and grinning widely at Hermione 

Still confused Hermione scans the list of book titles "understanding your wand", " uncover your coven" "So your wands a bit bent?" "it’s not all wand work" "unleash your fantastical beast" her eyes widen slowly at the realisation that this was a section dedicated to prepubescent topics about sex and changes one experiences when hitting puberty. 

Swallowing hard Hermione stumbles over her words "errrrr, its good..... I mean, very progressive, muggle schools teach this ummm stuff and muggle books stores have this kind of thing too". Hermione can feel sweat forming in the palm of her hand

"Do they?" Ms Fadington says in wide eyed admiration "and so they bloody buggery should. I may visit that school of yours and suggest it. It's important for young witches and wizards to know. It can be a confusing time"

Don't I know it thinks Hermione. This conversation making her so feel uncomfortable it makes her wiggle her toes in her shoes. 

"Over there" continues Mrs Fadington pointing to a few rows over "is a bit more if the how to and discovering books if you what I mean. Probably, for persons a little older thou." 

Looking over to where Ms Fadington was pointing, two book titles sitting side by side have Hermione's cheeks flushing pink "witches who like witches 101 Guide to pleasure" "bewitching and tantalising your witch". Heat permeates through her body as she spies the small image on the spine of one of the books. It looks remarkably like two women in an embrace. Her cheeks flush with heat; she can only imagine how red they are. 

"I.... I ..... really am after some information on Moonflower and Nottingham Catchfly" Hermione says briskly desperately trying to steer the topic away from sex, because she knows it would lead to thoughts of Parkinson, and today was a no Parkinson day. She can already feel the heat racing over her back. 

"Oh of course" says Mrs Fadington 

Hermione detects a little disappointment in her voice 

"Just this way" she says leading Hermione to a nearby section. 

Hermione breaths a sign of relief this was more like it. Leather bound academic books looking books lined the shelves; this is what she was here for. 

"Thank you" Hermione says in relief 

"Pleasure, some of these books are quite rare and some deem them to promote dark curses, but some witches and wizards would rather keep people in the bloody dark." Mrs Fadington says passionately "They think they can keep people safe by hiding things, but how can you defend yourself if you don't know what you are defending yourself from? "

Hermione completely agrees, that's why she was so intent on learning as much as she can about everything no matter how confronting. 

"Trust me, their hidden libraries are filled with books that you will never see, I should know, but sometimes you might get lucky" she says nodding towards the top shelf  
If you need anything else, I'll be just over there" she says as she walks off. 

Looking to where Mrs Fadington directed towards an extremely old green leather bound book catches her eye, flora for and against the dark.

Hermione reaches up and opens the aged book. It smells warm and dusty. The thin pages stained with age feel delicate against the tips of her fingers. The paper rustles as she slowly thumbs through the book to find what she is looking for. Her eyes flit across the pages, normally she always appreciated the beauty of an old book, she would immerse herself completely in a book like this but she is distracted by the texts that Mrs Fadington introduced to her a few moments earlier.

Hermione's eyes wander back to the confunded section, chewing on her bottom lip she looks over her shoulder. No one is about. Like a magnet she is drawn to those tempting texts on the shelves. It would help get a better understanding what's happening to me thinks Hermione as she places the book down.  
Before she even registers what she is doing she is slowly cautiously making her way back, there's one text in particular that has peaked her curiosity.  
Her mouth is dry as her eyes skim the shelves again, she can see her hand shake as she reaches for the text "witches who like witches, 101 Guide to pleasure". Snatching the book off the shelf quicker than a seeker who has spotted the golden snitch she hurries to a nearby aisle.  
Her heart thumps, the book feels heavy like a rock. The words witches who like witches dances in front of her eyes. Her heart continues to pound it feels so naughty and wrong. Deep down she knows there is no turning back once she opens this book.  
The logical and practical side of her brain kicks in, if you're going to do this be discreet she tells herself.

She doesn't even read the title of the book before grabbing another book off the shelf in front of her, in the hope it will mask what she is really reading.  
She knows Ron has done this many a time, hiding a copy of the latest Quidditch magazine inside a text book hoping to look like he is interested in studying quite successfully at times, but this is much harder the texts are bigger and take some juggling before Hermione can perfectly balance the two texts in her hands. 

Taking a deep breath, and one last look over her shoulder to check no one was nearby, she begins to read The stark white pages feel heavy to turn, but her curiosity edges her on. 

Congratulations on your purchase. This book with guide you on how to ensnarl your witch and have her moaning more more more.  
We will cover the basics like anatomy, sex with fingers, mouths, and toys; love and so much more. 

Hermione can feel the heat race though her body as she pours herself into the pages. She scours the book. That uncomfortable dull ache from below lulling itself awake again, she can feel her arousal growing with every word she reads. Diagram of two women in joyful embrace peak her interest and curiosity. Skimming ahead she comes to a chapter that captures her attention. 

The clitoris  
We come the part of the body that is most densely packed with nerve endings, and whose sole purpose is pleasure. But don't go diving straight in, use your breath to caress and arouse.......

She's living each page in breathless rapture. Hermione is completely engrossed, absorbed, almost in a trance. She barely hears anything around her. She licks her bottom lip, it's dry from her small open mouth gape as the words swirl from the page before her Breath....tease......stimulate......tantalise.....taste.....trace your tongue.......

"Well if it isn't the mudblood" 

Hermione's heart momentarily freezes, her back stiffens and with what feels like thousands of tiny little cactus spikes running along the back of her neck, she attempts to slam the book shut. It doesn't go unnoticed to her that that it does not close completely, the inside text blocking it from snapping shut. She spins around with a mighty force. 

Goyle, Crabb and of course Parkinson stand before her. Her heart jumps to her throat she hangs on to her book with such a force her knuckles turn white. Her heart pounding like a drum at the prospect of being caught with the book tightly tucked in her hand. 

"Whatcha reading mudblood?" the harsh dense words from Crabb have Hermione reaching towards her wand. 

Her thoughts running fast. It's three against one, she could normally defend herself until help arrived should they try to hex her, but she is more concerned with concealing and balancing the book in her hands than casting spells. 

"Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul" reads Goyle slowly "know you’re in trouble when our dark lord strikes huh mudblood" laughs Goyle 

For a moment Hermione is confused, but the pieces come together quickly as she realises she must of taken a text from the Divination section to disguise the other book. 

Crabbe and Goyle laugh menacingly in that classical way villains do. All they needed to do was to rub their hands together or twirl their non-existent black pencil moustaches.

"Give it to me" Crabbe orders taking a step towards Hermione 

Panic surges through her veins like electricity. There is no way they can get a hold of these books. Her stomach feels heavy like she's eaten a cannonball. Hermione has no doubt in her mind that they do not have any interest in the book other than Hermione has it, in typical bully fashion 

"No" says Hermione firmly drawing herself to her full height. Her voice sounding stronger than she feels. 

Parkinson's face is unreadable, but Hermione notices her eyes squint and flick down to the book being held tightly in Hermione's hands, a confused and sceptical look crosses Parkinson's face. 

"I said give me the book" Crabbe threatens, his voice deepening in anger 

The blood is pulsating through Hermione's body, her muscles burning with panic. They can't get a hold of this book. 

"And I said no. Are you deaf as well as illiterate" she retorts 

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. It's as if Crabbe is trying to recall where he had heard a word with more than two syllables before. 

"Why you filthy mudblood" 

Crabb makes to move towards Hermione. Fear bubbles in her chest but she refuses to let it show. She notices Parkinson tense behind the big build of Crabbe, who is clenching and unclenching his hands into fists.

Thawack

A large tome flies from the shelf hitting Crabbe in the head. Another flies towards Goyle, hitting him just as hard on his back" 

"Owww, what in ....." 

"Ohhh I'm so very sorry my dears" the round friendly face of Mrs Fadington pops out from behind a shelf "I was stacking shelves, and I fear my stacking spell has gone array. I haven't hurt anyone have I?"

Despite the innocent words and tone, Hermione can tell her actions were anything but innocent. In this moment she reminded Hermione of Luna. 

Luna gives off an aura of distinct dottiness but as Hermione has come to learn, particularly after the battle at the Department of Mysteries where Luna valiantly fought Death Eaters side by side with Hermione, that Luna is a strong, extremely capable witch that most people including Hermione had underestimated because of her, well loony demure. 

Another book whizzes past Hermione, hitting Crabbe in the stomach. 

"Oh I'm sorry" Mrs Fadington repeats 

Hermione can tell she is anything but sorry. Another book shoots past, this time narrowly missing Parkinson"

"Crabbe, Goyle lets go" orders Parkinson 

"But..." begins Goyle, looking like a dejected puppy "your quill..."

"If you want to stay here, and get more brain damage than you already have from flying tomes, stay. I'm going" Parkinson huffs and turns towards the exit, but not before casting a quick glance from the book in Hermione's hands to Hermione's eyes. 

It makes Hermione's heart skip a beat as she hugs the text tightly against her chest. 

Hermione watches Crabbe and Goyle follow Parkinson's lead and head towards the exit mumbling as they went. 

"Come again" the cheerful and bubbling voice of Mrs Fadington calls out to them

"Thank you" Hermione says in relief 

"For what my dear" Mrs Fadington smiles. There is a twinkle in her eye, not too dissimilar to that of Dumbledore. Hermione merely smiles in return. 

"Will you be buying that book?" 

"No....no ......" Hermione stumbles out, hoping she managed to keep the panic from her tone "I'll put it away" 

"Oh, no need my dear, one quick spell and the books find their own way back eventually, just put it on the ledge there.”

Hermione's throat restricts, she feels caught between a rock and hard place. On one hand if she puts up a fuss, it'll draw attention to the secret text embedded the book and on the other hand if she just places it in the ledge anyone could pick it up. Weighing up her options, she reluctantly decides it safer to leave the books than push the point. Well someone is going to get an interesting surprise if they ever want to discover what their future holds. thinks Hermione


	6. Wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry I cant seem to get the formatting right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I cant seem to get the formatting right

Monday morning rolls around quickly the antics of the weekend feeling like a distant memory as Hermione lies wide awake in bed. It’s far too early to get up, the sun has not even broken through the night sky yet.

Tossing and turning in a tangle of sheets she just cannot find a comfortable position, no matter how hard she tries.  

Her body is riddled with nervous anticipation, the type that makes your soles of your feet tingle. The thought of attending her classes today, particularly potions as they still had not completed their Wolfbane potion meant it was going to be another agonising and confusing lesson sitting next to Parkinson and the medley of emotions spiralling around her body

 

She had never regretted reading a book in her life, even poorly written novels had some merit but at this moment she curses her curiosity when she decided to peek open _Witches Who Like Witches, 101 Guide to Pleasure_ in Tomes and Scrolls the other day. In fact, she curses the fact that it was even written in the first place. The words and images from the book have plagued her mind, feeding that insatiable ache created within her from the moment that she and Parkinson actually kissed in the cupboard. She shivers in embarrassment at the thought that she almost got caught by Parkinson herself no less reading about pleasuring witches sexually.

No matter how hard she tries to ignore it, thoughts of kissing and tracing her fingers along Parkinson's body haunt her, consuming her every waking moment with no reprieve in sight.

Sharing a dorm with other girls made it virtually impossible to release any of the pent up sexual frustration leaving her irritable and snappy.

Hermione was particularly snappy at Ron, Harry and the other Gryffindor boys over the weekend who had purchased an abundance of the lollies from Honeydukes including the new Fiery Red Pepper Imps. Unlike their original counterparts, the Fiery Black Peppermints which makes the consumer smoke at the ears and nose, the new and improved Red Pepper Imps actually allows you to emit a small flame. The boys had spent the entire weekend running around trying to set each other on fire. They had even named each other after dragon breeds. Harry, of course, was the Hungarian Horntail, named so because of his success at the first task at the Triwizard Tournament.

By Sunday evening, Seamus had burnt his eyebrows after he experimentally popped 6 of the little potent lollies in his mouth. Poor Neville had been set alight at least 14 times. Ron had scorched several holes into his jumper, which Hermione was certain Mrs Weasley would send a Howler about when she found out. Harry relying on years of avoiding his cousin Dudley’s punches combined with his agile seeker reflexes came out re markedly unscathed. Hermione herself couldn't count the amount the times she had extinguished little spot fires around the common room, the boys too focused on casting flames at each other to even notice the tiny flames scattered around the common room.

She managed to ignore them well enough but her temper flared when poor Crookshank came racing past with the tip of his tail smouldering and the smell of burnt fur trailing strongly behind him. This resulted in the boys receiving a stern talking to that had them retiring to their dorm early to continue their fire game no doubt.

Their antics made it virtually impossible to read the book she actually purchased from Tomes and Scrolls, _Flora For and Against the Dark._

Taking a deep defeated breath Hermione stares out the window. The sky is littered with tiny diamond shaped stars that haphazardly surround the half moon. The moon she ponders it all started because of the moon.

She drags herself back to the moment or else her mind will drift as it done so many times before to the wild fantasies of Parkinson and the evening in the cupboard. It may actually drive her insane besides just completely frustrated.

Hermione's not 100% sure what's driving her crazier, these constant pervasive thoughts of Parkinson or the fact she can't tell what Parkinson is actually thinking about what happened between them. There's sadness at the thought that Parkinson isn't thinking about her like she is thinking of Parkinson. Unanswered questions swirl around in Hermione's mind, what was what was she feeling about their kiss, was she even thinking about It, did she like it? These unanswered questions tormenting her replaying like a broken record. No matter how hard she tries to fight it, Pansy Parkinson has become an integral part of her minds landscape.

Sighing a deep defeated sigh and tossing yet another time, she turns to see the gold lettering _Flora For and Against the Dark_ on the heavy green leather-bound book glisten in the moonlight. May as well start reading she thinks

Collecting her wand from beneath her pillow, “Lumos” she whispers casting a dull light from the tip of her wand.

Turning the fragile coffee coloured pages she begins to read;

_Like all magical items, they can be used for the light as well as the dark, for it's not the wand itself that_

__chooses which spell _but rather it reacts to the intention of the caster. _We are surrounded powerful magical___ _

____I _ _ _ _tems, none more powerful than the delicate flora around us._____ _ _ _

Skipping ahead Hermione turns to the pages that interest her most Moonflower she begins to read.

_Moonflower_

_Many tend to be cooped up in their houses at night, so they have not experienced the healing _and damaging__

__powers of the night._ _

_The moon is a mighty powerful element that can transfigure a seemingly meek and humble human_

_to a ravenous creature simply by bringing its energy to the full._

_The moon is powerful, so powerful it affects the ocean tides and the flow of water through plants:_

_sap moves more vigorously during the waxing phase as the moon grows to full, and slows down as_

_t _he moon wanes to a thin morning crescent. The potency of plants such as the Moonflower peaks to its highest during a__

__full moon._ _

_The Moonflower greets the moon, her delicate flowers open wide in the late afternoon and stay open for one night only._

_The draw of their heavenly scent an intoxicant like no other. Her flowers smell absolutely divine like the richest perfume,_

_the gently heart-shaped petals, and sap poisoning or healing the human body pending on the dosage_.

Hermione is in enthralled with the detail the book provides, raising herself to a more comfortable sitting position she continues to read

_The pollen of the flower interferes with ones the nervous system. The effects generally take place within 1 hour of_

_Moonflower _ingestion. Symptoms of increased pulse rate and the compounds of the Moonflower may cause one's heart to stop.__

__A person who has consumed the incorrect dosage will experience hallucinations, anxiety, confusion and, coma and death._ _

Hermione releases a small gasp of surprise as the text continues to provide detailed instructions on how to brew this said deadly potion. She has not ever seen so clearly written how to brew a potion that could actually kill someone. She understands now what Professor Dumbledore meant by prohibiting certain educational but "darker texts" from the Hogwarts library. In the wrong hands namely the Slytherins this type of text could be extremely dangerous.

Her heart plummets at the thought that perhaps Parkinson was planning on making this potion, and if she was the likely victim could be her close friends if not herself.

Shaking the thoughts away, Hermione reads on

_The moonflower is also a dear companion to beloved healers, and Saturnian witches._

_The delicate flower can break spells sent to harm you, she can combat and neutralise_

_other poisonous substances that have found their way into your system._

 

On and on the text explains the necessary instructions to combat other poisons using Moonflower including the powerful Belladonna, also known as the deadly nightshade.

So engrossed in the text Hermione has not realised the sun has well and truly risen until Lavender poking her in shoulder

 

"Wakey, wakey or you'll be late, " says Lavender already dressed in a sing-a-long voice.

 

Gasping in surprise Hermione quickly thanks Lavender as she rushes to shower leaving the text open on her unmade bed.

Showering and dressing quicker than she ever has before, Hermione is still one of the last to arrive for breakfast. Her usual seat next to Harry vacant and waiting for her.

There is an unusual energy at the Gryffindor table that Hermione can't quite place. A combination of excitement and nervousness not too dissimilar to the excited anticipation energy just before the arrival of the Triwizard Tournament guests from their respective schools. Every student was on the edge of their seats waits to see what their magical counterparts were like.

"You're just in time" Ron whispers cheerfully nodding towards the professor's tables. Harry himself has a sheepish grin plastered to his face.

Sitting herself down, Hermione notices there is a variety of tea cups in a multitude of bright colours on the Professor's table.

Hermione instantly turns to the twins who give her a matching devilish wink. Their faces lit up with enthusiasm. A panicked realisation courses through her, they had somehow managed to get the nose-biting teacups onto the professor's table. Part of her had thought, perhaps hoped that the twins had decided not to prank all the professors.

With baited breath, Hermione watches as Professor Dumbledore pours himself a cup of tea before passing the pot down the table. Crossing her legs tightly, she has the sudden urge to go to the bathroom, her nerves peaking as the professors continue to pour the golden brown tea into their tainted cup.

"Here we go" whispers George excitedly down the table as Professor Dumbledore raises his teacup towards his lips, pausing momentarily to take a deep breath and inhale the aroma of his freshly brewed cup.

The entire Gryffindor table, along with most of the other students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, are deathly silent, all eyes are fixed on their Professor, and even Ron has stopped eating. Their gaze unwavering as the teacup gently touches Professor Dumbledore's lips and....nothing. Professor McGonagall is the next to take a sip of tea, followed by Professor Flitwick again nothing.

Hushed whispers filter down the Gryffindor table "must have been a dud batch" "what went wrong?"

Hermione turns to George and Fred, disappointment is etched deeply on their faces. She can't help but feel sorry for them. The one thing the twins prided themselves on is developing fool proof memorable pranks, and this prank had it been successful would have been one that would have gone down in Hogwarts history as the best prank ever played.

Shaking their heads in disbelief and with a sad look on their faces, George and Fred pour themselves a goblet of pumpkin juice each. Their head bowed down looking away from their Gryffindor peers in shame.

Hermione feels that she should say something to console them but as opens her mouth to speak, she nearly jumps from her seat in shock as both twins let out a mighty yelp and are hurled from their seat and begin rolling on the floor.

Two golden goblets are hanging from their noses swinging furiously left to right.

The entire dining hall is momentarily quiet before raucous laughter and cheers erupt, loud enough to rival that of the Quidditch World Cup.

Hermione herself has tears of laughter streaming down her face; her sides begin to ache from the laughter as the twins continue to roll around the floor struggling to capture the allusive goblets.

Hermione spies Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore clinking teacups in victory. It seems that the professors have turned Fred and George's prank onto themselves

Looking from the professors table, with laughter still on her lips, Hermione's eyes skim past the Slytherin table. They are also laughing heartily at Fred and George's misfortune.

Hermione's heart jolts as her eyes lock onto Parkinson over the breakfast tables. Parkinson's usually hard expressions have evaporated as she too laughs at the Fred and George's misfortune. She had seen Parkinson laugh before, usually at her own expense and there was always an element of evilness to her laugh. Hermione couldn't put her finger on it, but this time was different, Parkinson looked different.

It was as if it was the first time Hermione had really seen Parkinson genuinely laugh and smile. Her wolffish brown eyes alight with joy, transforming her from someone menacing to someone Hermione wished she could get to know better.

Hermione let her eyes survey the rest Parkinson's fine features, her long dark hair contours her face perfectly and tumbles over her shoulders like a wave, her nose which had become less pug like as she aged sits perfectly above her deep cherry red lips. She was pretty Hermione decides. Hermione had never noticed how pretty Parkinson actually was before, her looks had always been masked by her dark personality.

As if sensing she was being admired, Parkinson looks at her and holds Hermione's gaze, her eyes just as focused on Hermione but instead of the usual icy hostility Hermione is accustomed to there is an endearing warmth that sends butterflies a flutter in the pit of her belly.

Hermione quickly snaps her head back to the Gryffindor table, hot fear rushes through her body that she may have been caught admiring Parkinson and more importantly at the realisation that she might be starting to actually really like Parkinson.

Harry leans into her for support as he doubles over in laughter, drawing her attention back to the antics of Fred and George. His boyish laugher so infectious she can't help but smile and giggle with him again. Wrapping her arm around his shoulders she draws Harry in closer for support resting her head against him as she laughs.

The walk to potions was filled with jovial banter and laughter. Everyone is still chuckling and giggling about how the professors were able to prank two of the most renowned pranksters that Hogwarts had seen in all its years.

The morning prank setting the tone for the day.

“Hey Neville” Seamus calls out

Before Neville has the chance to turn around, Seamus who had earlier popped a Fiery Red Pepper Imp into his mouth spits a miniature fireball at Neville, setting his cloak alight.

Laughter erupts all around Hermione as Neville swiftly puts the fire out.

“Oh you wait” shouts Neville who has also popped a Fiery Red Pepper Imp into his mouth

“Fire war” yells Ron who madly begins searching for his own fiery lolly to join in the madness

“Not again,” says Hermione frustrated “we will be late for potions” she lectures. Her hands firmly placed on her lips.

“Catch this Seamus” slurps Neville, firing a fireball in retaliation towards.

Unlike Neville, Seamus was expecting the oncoming miniature ball of fire and easily jumps out of the way, the fireball hitting a beautiful aged tapestry that is hugging the corner of stone castle walls.

“Honestly” Hermione huffs angrily “Aguamenti ” she says pointing her wand towards the tiny flame. A gush of clear crystal water flows from the tip of Hermione’s wand towards the tapestry

“Ahhhh” comes a shocked scream

Parkinson has walked around the corner at the exact moment that Hermione has tried to extinguish the flames on the tapestry. The water gushes from the tip of her wand hitting Parkinson in the face.

Hermione’s face drops. Parkinson stands before her water dripping from her dark locks. A murderous look on her face as she stands with her arms out to her side in shock

“I’m..I’m” Hermione stammers out, too tongue-tied to say anything else.

Turning to the boys for support, to Hermione's surprised the boys are not laughing. They are standing together eyes widened and focused.

Following their gaze, Hermione notices that they are staring at Parkinson’s top.

Heat races along spine down the back of her legs. Parkinson’s white school shirt is clinging and hugging her body so tightly it provides a perfect outline of her plump breasts. Her now see-through shirt shows off the delicate lacework of Parkinson’s bra. Hermione is unable to find any words. Her cheeks flushing hot, her stomach heavy. Her heart pounds in her throat, threatening to break out and run away. The shape of Parkinson’s breasts imprinting in her thoughts. Her breath short, she desperately wants to say something but all the blood has flowed from her brain and swelled in her pants, leaving her unable to speak.

“Ms. Granger, what is going on here?”

Hermione spins around. There, his black robes rippling in the light cool flowing down the corridor, stands Professor Snape, peering down at Hermione with his beady black eyes.

“I...I made Parkinson wet” Hermione tumbles out, her cheeks burning “by accident” she quickly adds

Cocking his eyebrow Professor Snape casts a quick glance at Parkinson. With one swish of his wand, her top along with the rest of her is now dry.

“10 points from Gryffindor,” says Professor Snape “for making Ms Parkinson” he pauses “wet”


	7. Red Quill

The day did not improve. Potions lesson was an absolute disaster. Every feeble attempt Hermione made to apologise to Parkinson was thwarted by deadly angry stares from her, leaving Hermione blushing as red as a ripe tomato, her cheeks radiating heat like a hot pan and hoping the earth would open up and swallow her whole. But there was no rescue from the embarrassment and unease caused by those dreaded words Hermione blurted out "I made Parkinson wet" This coupled with the image of Parkinson's tanned breasts beneath her wet shirt dancing through her mind made the potions lesson absolute torture. Professor Snape did not help matters purposely sprouting the word wet at any opportunity, smiling as he did so. Most of the class turned to Hermione every time Professor Snape said it. Seamus, in particular, taking the opportunity to stare at Parkinson with the same lecherous look he reserves for Madam Rosmerta and her ample bosom. Every time he looked over a surge of heated energy and conflicted emotions raced through Hermione. Her hands twitched in irritation. Annoyed energy flowing through every muscle. Feeling like she was actually going crazy, it took every ounce of Hermione's restraint not to send a paralysing hex his way.

And now here she was sitting at her desk waiting for Professor McGonagall to finish speaking to another student. Professor McGonagall had asked Hermione to stay behind once class ended. Gnawing on her bottom, lip a wave of nervous energy widgets through her body as she wonders what Professor McGonagall may want. She hadn't had her best Transfiguration lesson today. The memory of Parkinson's wet shirt and breasts were seared into her brain and the vibrant images kept popping up throughout the lesson to torment her again leaving her unable to focus properly and with a dull disrupting throbbing below. She still managed to complete her task, admittedly much later and with more mishaps than usual but eventually she still managed to transfigure a teapot into a tiny tortoise and then vanish it. Even Parkinson herself today had been on the receiving end of Professor McGonagall's stern words of reprimand when Parkinson's tortoise's shell remained a brightly coloured teapot lid that could be removed to show the tortoise within. This reprimand just ended with Parkinson sending more angry stares at Hermione

"Thank you for staying behind Ms Granger"

"That's ok Professor, is everything ok?" asks Hermione nervously. Her leg bouncing anxiously beneath the table

"Oh yes. I wish to request your assistance" Hermione lets out a breath of relief she did not know she was holding

"Of course" Hermione replies enthusiastically "what can I do to help?"

"One of your fellow classmates could do with assistance with today's class and I believe that a tutoring lesson with yourself would assist them greatly." She pauses as if contemplating whether to say the next sentence or not "It is someone from Slytherin" the professor adds cautiously

Hermione's heart jumps. The only student that she can think of who may need assistance is Parkinson. Dread creeps over her numbing her brain. Her mind paralysed on one thought, and one thought only, how could she possibly sit next to Parkinson and have an intelligent conversation with her while she envisions undressing her.

" Ms Granger, are you ok?" a worried expression crossed Professor McGonagall's face "I assumed with recent events house rivalry could be put aside for a moment"

Professor McGonagall was one of her most favourite teachers so to think that she may disappoint her in any way makes Hermione's stomach drop in shame

"Yes, of course," Hermione replies with a little less enthusiasm but she did not want to disappoint her Professor.

"Very well, I'll send a message to Ms Greengrass to meet you in the library this evening after dinner"

The shock registering on Hermione's face before she could hide it. Hermione swears see she's a small thin smile play on Professor McGonagall's lips but it quickly replaced with her usual stony composure.

"Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass" Hermione repeats slowly, clarifying whether she heard correctly

"Is there a problem Ms Granger?" ask Professor McGonagall "Oh, no not at all, I just thought...." Hermione trails off

"Very well Ms Granger, off you go" professor McGonagall orders, leaving Hermione perplexed and relieved.

Things had seemed to return back to normal by the end of dinner. Ron could not believe the audacity of Professor McGonagall, their head of house, to ask Hermione to help a Slytherin. His hatred for the green and silver house ran deep. Harry just asked Hermione to be careful as Slytherin's couldn't be trusted, Hermione would pat Harry's shoulder reassuringly and Parkinson, well every time Hermione chanced a glance towards Parkinson, she was rewarded with an icy angry stare, which only seemed to have increased after their Transfiguration class. Yes things seemed to be back to normal except for the constant arousing thoughts of Parkinson's breasts and rear. Madam Pomphrey was right mused Hermione, sometimes thoughts can leave deeper scars.

Waiting in the library for Daphne to arrive, Hermione nervously places her books and supplies in order. She always felt a little calmer when things were set out neatly. Hermione didn't know too much about Daphne other than she was one of Parkinson's gang members, had sometimes laughed at Parkinson's taunts towards Hermione and came from a very old wizarding pureblood family. All of which meant she probably despised Hermione as much as Parkinson did.

"Hi" came a soft timid voice It was Daphne Greengrass

"Hello there" replies Hermione cautiously

There is a thick awkwardness that cannot go unnoticed. This was the longest conversation Daphne Greengrass and Hermione have had in all their years of schooling.

"Thank you for agreeing to help me with this assignment," says Daphne sheepishly as she sits next to Hermione and begins collecting her supplies from her bag.

Hermione is taken aback by the politeness of Daphne. It is not something she is accustomed to receiving from a Slytherin. Despite the polite words, there is an uneasy tension in the air. It reminded Hermione of the times her parents were invited to dinner parties with people who were acquaintances more than real friends. Post dinner Hermione and the other children would always be cheerfully encouraged to go play a game. As if being roughly the same age meant that they would have a lot in common and make wonderful friends. Forced to make polite conversation with other children she actually had nothing in common with was never enjoyable for anyone. She longed for the evening to end, just as she wanted this tutoring session to end. Deciding it was easier to focus on tutoring than any forced polite niceties

Hermione asks "What exactly can I help you with?"

"The Vanishing Spell, I just can't seem to get it to work". Daphne pauses "I mean it's not like I'm trying to turn someone into a ferret" she adds, giving Hermione a devious sideway glance.

Hermione's face is washed blank with confusion like her brain cogs can't turn fast enough to take in whether she had actually just heard Daphne Greengrass make a joke at Draco Malfoy, her fellow Slytherin's expense. There is an undeniable small smile on Daphne's lips. Hermione begins to giggle at the memory of Malfoy being transformed into a snowy white ferret by Professor Moody in their fourth year. Remembering how he scurried about and was unceremonially thrust down Crabbe's pants has both Hermione and Daphne dissolving into a puddle of laughter. Hermione's stomach shakes as she fights a new gale of giggles. The stress and tension she was feeling regarding tutoring a Slytherin washing away.

"Having fun with her Greengrass?"

They look up to see Pansy Parkinson is staring down at them, arms folded with that fierce look Hermione has become accustomed too. The laughter and smiles fade fast from their faces. Daphne shifts uncomfortably in the seat next to Hermione.

Whether it was the stress of the day, or the ferocity of the words and look, Parkinson, was aiming at her, or the fact that Parkinson had interrupted her first decent conversation with a Slytherin, Hermione's eyes narrow as anger begins simmering deep in her belly. Parkinson may be causing a tidal wave of confusing emotions within her, her presence may have even distracted Hermione throughout her Potions and Transfiguration class, and every other waking moment if she was honest with herself, but that pretty face wasn't going to stop Hermione from defending herself in this instance.

"Actually Parkinson, we were just discussing the finer points of transforming someone into an animal, a ferret for instance, " says Hermione folding her arms across her chest, her heart beating furiously.

Hermione smiles triumphantly at the shocked look on Parkinson's face. Her back stiffens, raw adrenalin pulsates through her veins as she prepares for an onslaught of arsenal that is about to be fired her way as Parkinson's eyes also narrow and her shoulders push up straight ready for a fight. Unbridled energy crackles between them. The air is so brittle it could snap and crack at any moment. Hermione is only mildly aware that Daphne, like a ringside spectator at a world-class boxing match, is eagerly looking between herself and Parkinson, not quite sure what to do.

"Everything ok Hermione?"

It's Harry. The words may be directed at Hermione but his bright green eyes are focussed purely on Parkinson.

"Oh, if it isn't lover boy to the rescue" spits Parkinson rolling her eyes dramatically, "come to carry her off in your arms have you?"

Of all the things Hermione expected Parkinson to say, insinuating her and Harry were together was not one of them. Hermione notices Harry is equally taken aback.

"What?" questions Harry "Hermione and I....." he starts but is cut off by Parkinson

"Tell me" she continues "how does the Weasel feel being the third wheel, knowing he'll never get a piece of the know it all golden girl over there?"

"No one is a third..." Harry starts

"Go on know it all, run into the chosen one arms,"

Parkinson says turning to Hermione with a look on her face Hermione can't quite place.

"Parkinson," says Harry forcefully "you should be nicer to Hermione, she saved your life. And not that it's any of your business why do you even care if Hermione is seeing someone"

"Pffft." scoffs Parkinson "Trust me I don't. I couldn't care less about her" she says briskly as she pushes past Harry towards the library exit.

A stunned silence fills the air.

"Don't mind her" offers Daphne who has found her voice again "she's been snappy ever since that night with the werewolf. I'm not sure what's got under her skin more, that she was almost killed or that it was s Gryffindor, namely you who saved her." she says softly shrugging her shoulders "Could I borrow a quill I've left mine in my dorm?"

Later that evening lying in bed, Hermione feels like she has been punched in the heart. Parkinson's words echo in her brain I couldn't care less about her. Those simple words hurting and twisting her insides more than any of the taunts or name calling Parkinson has delivered to her in the past. I couldn't care less about her. Her body feels empty drained of all emotion as if her organs have been strangled of any life, a deep melancholy hangs on her for a sadness over something that never was. _This is so illogical_ she tries to convince herself. Her chest is heavy like a burdensome boulder lying at the bottom of a lake. Her lips quiver slightly. A single tear forms, threatening to flow down her cheek as she turns to retrieve a quill from her bag. Taking a deep breath as she fights back tears, stay focused she tells herself and begins scribing from the text _Flora For and Against the Dark._

The next day Hermione arrives at her potions early. Today would be the last lesson they would require to complete the Wolfsbane potion, which meant it would be the last day she would have to endure the torment of sitting next to Parkinson. Running her hands over the face, her muscles ache and hang limp like wet Gillyweed. Her mind fuzzy with tiredness, she knows she stayed up too late reading and trying to abate the haunting thoughts of Parkinson. Hermione had thought, perhaps hoped that come morning the hurt and pain caused by those 6 simple words I couldn't care less about her, would have eased, but there was no such reprieve, if anything it was as if the dawning of a new day had refreshed the intensity of the words slicing deeper through her insides. She breathes out a tired sigh, her heavy sore eyes beg her to close and rest them just for a moment.

Like she has just been jabbed with an electric prod, Hermione's eyes shoot open, no longer craving sleep. The baby hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stand to attention as she smells the sweet intoxicating perfume that has swirled through her senses like the powerful love potion Amortentia. She knows Parkinson has arrived before she even hears the scraping of the chair against the floor next to her. Hermione's heart is hammering but she keeps her face forward refusing to acknowledge Parkinson's presence.

Twenty cauldrons sit steaming on Snape's desk in front of a multitude of brass scales and jars of ingredients. Hermione tries to determine which their cauldron, without success.

The class hushes instantly as Professor Snape swoops in, his long black cloak flowing behind him. Without acknowledging the class and with one swift swish of his wand all the cauldrons and their entire contents rise and slowly in a single file make their way into a cupboard. Hermione's heart stills for a moment, stunned silence fills the room had everyone failed to brew the potion correctly? Her mind quickly retraces the steps they took to brew the potion thus far, but her tired mind is unable to pinpoint where they may have made an error.

Turning ever so slowly Professor Snape turns to face the class, steadily wrapping his cloak around his chest, his black beady eyes surveying the classroom.

"Why do you not have your parchment and quills at the ready?" Professor Snape asks dangerously

The entire class looks to each other in fear and ignorance.

Snape stands still waiting for an answer of sorts

"Allow me to rephrase in terms a first year would comprehend. Why have I stored your cauldrons?"

Of course, Hermione internally reprimands herself as she raises her hand to answer

"Yes Ms Granger"

"The potion requires more time to rest before the remaining ingredients can be added" Hermione answers correctly

"Indeed" Snape pauses "so I take it that you must enjoy your new seating arrangements," he says, a sardonic grin painted on his face "or else you would have scurried back to your original seats for this theory session".

Hermione's face burns crimson. Tingling energy twists in her belly. If she could just vanish from the moment she would. Parkinson shifts in the seat beside her.

"Well what are you all waiting for, get out your parchment and quill and begin by outlining all the uses for the 3 key ingredients used to create Wolfsbane"

A collective groan is heard through the class as Hermione begins to collect her supplies from her bag. A few moments pass and Hermione's breathing becomes more rapid as she starts to rummages through her bag. She has her parchment and inkpot but where is her quill, she normally carries 2, keeping a spare handy just in case of emergencies but she does not even have one in her bag. In a panic, she looks around the room as if it may offer some solution.

Daphne Greengrass she curses to herself at the realisation that she never retrieved her quill from Daphne after last nights tutoring session, and her spare quill is sitting on her bedside table next to the book she was engrossed in the evening previous. Tension grows in her face and limbs, her mind a carousel of panic, she cannot ask Snape for a quill, the torment she would endure would be catastrophic.

She frantically starts rummaging in her bag again, perhaps she has an old third quill at the very bottom. Her chest begins to restrict straining to inflate her lungs. _Why now and why in potions class_ she asks herself.

A slow movement catches the corner of her eye causing her to stop what she is doing and look up. Sliding along to her side of the desk is a stunningly beautiful bright red quill, identical to the one she admired longingly in the display window of Tomes and Scrolls during her recent Hogsmeade visit. Connected to the beautiful quill is the perfectly manicured fingers of Pansy Parkinson. Hermione's eyebrows lift up and curve in surprise at the gesture.

Hermione traces her eyes along the slender hand up Parkinson's arm, Parkinson's head is bowed focussed on the parchment before her, not looking at Hermione. But the gesture is clear, she is offering her a quill, but not any quill, it's one of the most exquisite quills Hermione has ever seen. Hermione notices that just top of Parkinson's parchment is a quill that is a distinguished Emerald Green, obviously the sister quill to the one Hermione now has. Hermione can't help but wonder if Parkinson purchased all 4 colourful quills that were on display in Tomes and Scrolls.

"Thank you" whispers Hermione her voice cracking slightly

Parkinson merely nods and shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, her dark hair cupping her face and still refusing to look at Hermione.

A warmth of indescribable happiness fills Hermione that she can't help but smile a very small smile.


	8. The Whack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small bridging chapter to build up to the next chapter

Writing with the red quill was heavenly. The ink flowed flawlessly from the fine tip, soundlessly caressing the rough-textured parchment. The super soft feather perfectly curves away from the sight line, gently kissing the back of Hermione's hand ensuring she would be clean of any ink smudges. The shapes of the letters flawlessly rounded and boldly strong as the words glided across the parchment, unmatched to any other quill she had used. It was magical. But it wasn't just the quill that has Hermione smiling in delight. It was the fact that it was Pansy Parkinson who had given it to her. Anyone else offering her a quill would not, could not, send this warm wave of excited glee through her. It's as if all the invisible cuts of hurt she felt during the night from Parkinson's words were slowly being healed. Her heart fills with such delight that there is a permanent tiny, barely noticeable smile fixed to her lips as she writes.

As the potions lesson draws to a close, a flurry of jitters dance around in Hermione's belly, she would now have to talk to Parkinson and at the very least thank her and return the quill.

"In the unlikely event you have completed the task leave your parchments on your desk otherwise I expect to see them on my desk before breakfast. Class is dismissed" says Professor Snape in a low bored monotone voice

Packing away her things painstakingly slow, Hermione knows she is stalling in a feeble attempt to build up the courage to speak and thank Parkinson. Her heart flutters, nervous energy tingles through her like little tiny fireworks all the way down her body gathering in her toes. Inhaling a deep breath, Hermione turns to Parkinson to speak

"I'm sorry"

Hermione hears the words but they are not hers. With her mouth still partially open for words she did not have a chance to utter, Hermione turns to see Daphne Greengrass standing near her desk, with Hermione's quill in hand.

"I didn't mean to take your quill," Daphne says, offering Hermione her quill back Hermione can feel rather than see Parkinson tense next to her.

"That's ok" answers Hermione taking her quill back

"I was wondering we could go over the Vanishing Spell again tonight?" Daphne asks "Professor McGonagall said I've improved vastly and maybe to ask you for another session"

Hermione hears Parkinson mumble something unintelligible behind her as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. The hair on her arms stand on end, she can feel Parkinson glaring into her back pricking her with an army of tiny sharpened daggers.

"Of course, after dinner in the library " Hermione agrees briskly hoping to end this dialogue between them so she could return to speaking to Parkinson

"Excellent thanks, see you tonight," Daphne says walking off

Taking another deep breath Hermione turns to Parkinson but is faced with nothing but thin air. Parkinson has left leaving her half-finished parchment on the desk.

Hermione spends most of the day trying to catch Parkinson's eye at any opportunity she could but to no avail. Parkinson was doing a wonderful job of avoiding her. She had taken Parkinson's incomplete parchment to give to her along with her quill but every time she tried to approach her, Parkinson would miraculously disappear or be surrounded by other Slytherins. She may be a brave Gryffindor but there was no way on Merlins Beard that Hermione was ready to walk into that snake pit willingly.

Hermione's stomach feels heavy with disappointment. She couldn't count the number of times Harry had nudged her into attention in class with a worried expression on his face as she aimlessly stared and twirled the delicate red quill in her fingertips.

By the time her tutoring lesson with Daphne arrived Hermione was exhausted and deflated. Like the evening previous the tutoring session was pleasant and unlike the night previous without incident so far. It still surprised her at how pleasant the company of a Slytherin could be, especially given the state of affairs with the constant threat of war in the air. Hermione had come to expect nothing but hostility from the Slytherins so it was natural to assume that they would be against her and her friends when a war broke out. But now she wonders if maybe a Slytherin or two might be on their side.

"I think I've finally got it, thanks so much for your help," says Daphne "and now to finish Snape's paper" she moans collecting her things to head back to her dorm

Hermione tosses about the thought of whether she should ask Daphne to give Parkinson her parchment back. Would it raise suspicions, would Daphne think it odd that Hermione had Parkinson's parchment and even odder that Hermione cared to give it back to her. As far as everyone knew Parkinson and Hermione hated each other. No one would ever suspect that Hermione's feelings towards Parkinson had softened since that night in the cleaner’s cupboard.

"Do you think you could give Parkinson her paper? She left it on the table today?" asks Hermione deciding academics was more important and conceding defeat that she would not get an opportunity to see Parkinson this evening.

"Sure no problem" replies Daphne as if it is not a strange request at all "she's just leaving the library now"

Hermione's heart leaps as she turns to see Parkinson leaving the library, not giving her or Daphne a sideways glance as she exits. She had not realised Parkinson was in the library, she must have been well hidden.

"Oh that's ok, I'll give it to her, I want to ask a question about our Wolfbane potion," Hermione says hurriedly hoping her comment sounded legitimate and natural

Racing out of the library, Parkinson is waking faster than Hermione has ever seen before. Hermione calls out to Parkinson, who ignores her and turns down the hallway that Hermione assumes heads towards the Slytherin dorms. She practically has to break out into a soft trot to try and catch up with her.

"Parkinson" she calls out again, reaching out and grabbing her arm

"What?" says Parkinson with ferocity, spinning around pulling away from Hermione's touch

Hermione would be a liar if she was to say that the gesture didn't hurt her feelings a little bit. Now that Parkinson was standing before her Hermione couldn’t find her voice. She feels her cheeks flush hot, her heart pounding in her throat.

"Well?" presses Parkinson placing her hands on her hips

Hermione can't help but notice the way Parkinson's shirt tugs across her breasts, as her hands press deep into her hips, highlighting a perfect hourglass figure. Heat simmers up her spine to the base of her neck as she spies a small gap between the buttons of Parkinson's shirt, giving a tiny glimpse the lace bra that been at the forefront of her mind all day. She shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Parchment" Hermione manages to squeak out, holding the roll in front of her for Parkinson to take "you left your work"

"A bit late now," Parkinson says snatching it from Hermione "I already rewrote it"

"Already?" says Hermione surprised, she still needed to complete her potions work later this evening. Tutoring Daphne had cut into her personal study time

"What, so you think I'm stupid and sleep around?" Parkinson says evidently angry

Hermione blushes as she remembers her surprise that Parkinson was a virgin and her insensitive comment that perhaps she had slept with most of the Slytherin boys that evening in the cleaner’s cupboard.

"No, I just haven’t finished mine yet," says Hermione was taken aback by the ferocity of the words

"Well if you weren't busy giving it up to everyone and playing Professor then maybe you would have"

"What's that suppose to mean?" Says Hermione, her own hands now firmly placed on her hips

There is that static in the air again, crackling and popping like dry wood on a bonfire. Anger begins to simmer like a hot cauldron deep in the pit of her belly.

"She's not as sweet and nice as you think you know," Parkinson says her eyes staring Hermione down.

"Daphne?" says Hermione playing dumb

"Oh, first name basis now are we?" spits Parkinson

"I think she's quite delightful" continues Hermione "more delightful than some"

If looks could kill, Hermione would be Avada Kedavraed on the spot. Hermione knows she is being petulant, the saying don't poke a stick at a snake springs to mind but Hermione can't help herself. She will be damned if she lets Parkinson tell her what to do plus she is getting some perverse enjoyment from this feeling of excitement. Every blood cell is racing around in her body on high alert.

"She's just using you for your brain" argues Parkinson

Hermione can see and feel Parkinson's frustration growing with every passing second

"Well that is obvious, she did ask me to tutor her" taunts Hermione's

"She won't care once she's passed the class, she probably won't even look at you"

A tremor of worry passes through Hermione that Parkinson may be right. That once Daphne Greengrass passed her class she not only would no longer speak to Hermione but worse, she may potentially try and hex her and her friends should a war erupt. Hermione shakes the thought away; there were more pressing issues to take about.

"I didn't expect her to, but I suspect she actually will, we seem to get on well, better than I could have imagined," Hermione says making sure that her voice sounded stronger and more confident than her doubting thoughts

Hermione notices Parkinson’s pupils dilate into giant black orbs like an angry cat ready to attack its prey. Hermione stands her ground. The air encircling them is thick and thunderous. Their eyes dangerously locked on each other, every nerve in edge ready to pounce.

WHACK

Hermione stands dumbfounded and speechless. Parkinson has just whacked her on her forehead with the rolled up parchment. She’s not sure what she expected but getting whacked on the forehead was not one of them. She continues to stare at Parkinson in open mouth disbelief

Parkinson is standing before her with her chest heaving in frustration or anger, Hermione can't quite tell. She is waiting for something, but Hermione does not know what it is. She is too shocked to speak let alone move. She hears Parkinson growl and stomp her foot before turning and storming off down the hallway, leaving Hermione dumbfounded and concreted to the spot as she watches Parkinson walk off.


	9. Horcruxes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU, non time-line compliant and not canon.  
> Yes there will be more Parkinson and Hermione one on one coming in the next chapter :)

Her temper begins slowing rising at the realisation of what Parkinson had just done. She could not believe Parkinson had actually hit her on the head with a scrolled up parchment as if she was some naughty puppy deserving of telling off for soiling the carpet and then she even had the audacity to walk off leaving Hermione in her dumbfounded state.

Why she had the right mind to go down to the Slytherin dorm and demand an apology and explanation and whack her one back with her own parchment for good measure. But common sense prevails and instead Hermione storms back to the Gryffindor common room, anger building with every step it takes.

Everyone knows Hermione's temper is like dynamite, once the sparks started to sizzle on the wire there was very little time to run and duck for cover and Parkinson's action had well and truly lit the fuse wire.

By the time Hermione had reached the Gryffindor common room she was ready to explode. She decides the best thing she could do was go straight to her room and avoid contact with others.

Entering the commons she sees the boys Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Neville lounging together on the sofa talking intently. She should say goodnight at least she decides.

As Hermione approaches to bid them a quick goodnight she notices that most of the boys stop talking, except for Ron who has his back to her. She also notices Harry tries to give Ron a warning look and kick to the shins as she nears but Ron does not understand the warning.

"Ow. What Harry? whines Ron "You would have to consider it, who knew Parkinson had a such a great ample set on her?"

Hermione overhears Ron say. If she was angry before it was nothing compared to the fury hissing through her veins ready to erupt at this moment.

"An ample set of what Ron?" says Hermione her voice quivering with anger

Ron jumps in surprise quickly turning to Hermione and then to the boys for support, worry and fear etched on his face, but they merely shrink deeper in the lounge leaving Ron to fend for himself.

"Well umm, well....lungs, yeah good set of lungs. He stutters "I... I heard her umm singing" he continues pointing the palm of his hands to his chest towards where his lungs are, which unfortunately for Ron looked more like he was insinuating large breasts then lungs.

"Ronald Weasley, you absolute foul creature, I know exactly what you were insinuating. You think it's appropriate to objectify Parkinson ogling her like some piece of candy from Honeydukes? Parkinson and every other woman's body actually" she quickly adds "are not here for your amusement, sexual fantasies and gratification" She says picking up a plush cushion next to Ron and hitting him with it forcefully. To which Seamus makes the mistake of sniggering at.

"You," She says now focussing her wrath onto Seamus "you little lecherous perverted leprechaun, don't think I haven't noticed you leering at Parkinson and any other girl in a skirt at any opportunity you can. If I ever see you look at Parkinson with that look again I'll hex your bollocks off right back to Ireland. And you Harry James Potter", she says angrily, now pointing an accusing finger at his chest "I expected better of you"

Loud cheers, claps and encouraging "yeahs" from all the Gryffindor girls follow her as she storms off to her room.

Throwing herself onto her bed in frustration, it takes every ounce of restraint not to scream like an unearthed mandrake. She knows how ironic her words are, she's been objectifying and fantasising about Parkinson also, but that's different she tells herself I'm not sitting in a group of boys comparing breasts and no doubt passing crude comments. This whole ordeal makes her head spin.

 She needs to understand why Parkinson hit her and what on earth has happened to her since that night. She needs a plan.

***

Stretching her arms well above her head her bones crack as she yawns herself awake. Hermione is up early, The morning sun shines through the window. The golden rays cascading and caressing her quilt. Pulling the sheets away in earnest she jumps out of bed to get ready well before any of her dorm mates stir from their slumber. A major part of her plan involves cornering Parkinson as she hands up her potions parchment this morning before breakfast, so she needs to be ready early.

Hermione's almost positive that she will be the first to arrive at potions as she finishes tying her shoelace after a quick wash.

She shivers as the cool morning air bounces off the stony ancient walls tickling her skin as she exits the common room.

The hallways are quiet except for the gentle tapping of her shoes against the grey stone floor. As much as Hogwarts was her second home, there was always a sense of eeriness whenever you walked the corridors alone. Dark transforming shadows cast by the castle walls can spark off anyone's imagination blurring reality. She exhales deep visible puffs of air as her warm breath touches cold air. Gripping her wand tightly, constant vigilance she reminds herself and begins to walk faster towards her destination with a determined step.

Arriving at potions classroom she's delighted to see Professor Snape's desk is free of any other parchment, her work is definitely the first to be handed in.

Pulling her cloak tightly around her she sits down at her seat and waits.

Hermione drums her fingers nervously on the rough wooden table. Student after student come in to hand up their work all with a surprised look on their face when they see Hermione sitting at her desk poised like a sniper ready to fire. A number of the Slytherin's glare and whisper snide comments at her as they hand in their papers, but Hermione merely straightens her back and keeps her resolve.

Harry and Ron to her surprise actually are one of the first to hand up their paper, more than likely because Ron did not want to be late for breakfast, which works in her favour when she explains that she needs wait for Snape so she may be late for breakfast. She had to smile to herself as he hastily pushes Harry out the door.

Time ticks on, student after student continue to stream in but still no Parkinson. Hermione's nerves begin to flutter through her, what if someone handed Parkinson's paper up for her?

Hermione's eyes wander to the stack of parchments on the large desk, biting her bottom lip her curiosity is peaked. She slowly makes her way towards the desk her her heart flutters with every step.

Peeking ever so slowly Hermione begins to rummage through the works.

"Cheating now, so that's how you get good marks?"

Hermione jumps, her heart leapfrogs from her chest to her throat as she spins around. Parkinson is standing there with her arms folded parchments in hand

"I wasn't cheating," she says deeply offended by the accusation hands on hips

"Whatever" Parkinson replies as she makes her way towards the front of the class to hand in her work.

Hermione swallows hard, Parkinson's walk is as mesmerising as waves lapping the shore. Her signature perfume flowing with her, engulfing Hermione's senses, she has to physically shake herself back to the task at hand, her plan.

Hermione notices that Parkinson hands in two parchments. On the top right hand corner in neat writing is the words Draco Malfoy.

"Are you doing Malfoy's work for him?" Hermione accuses unable to keep the harsh disapproving tone out of her voice

"Not that it's any of your business Granger" spits Parkinson. She pauses before taking a deep defeated breath "I'm handing his work up for him, he's still sleeping". She admits tiredly

Hermione notices there is softness and worry in Parkinson's voice as she speaks about Malfoy, a tone not too dissimilar to herself when she often speaks about Harry.

"Why did you hit me?" asks Hermione more timidly than she had originally intended

 Rolling her eyes Parkinson scoffs "I didn't hit you"

"Excuse me what do you call whacking me with the parchment last night?"

"That was hardly a hit, it was more of a bop on the head" Parkinson retorts unable to keep an amused smirk off her face at the memory

"Fine" it’s now Hermione's turn to roll her eyes "why did you" she pauses "bop me on the head"

"Because you deserved it" Parkinson replies a matter of factly

"I beg your pardon," says Hermione her eyebrows shooting up in shock.

All timidness passing quickly replaced with irritation. Frustration spinning to a peak.

Parkinson has a way of pushing Hermione's buttons provoking her into anger and frustration simultaneously, and this morning would be no different.

"You know" huffs Parkinson" for the smartest witch of our age..." she adds mockingly

"Brightest" corrects Hermione

"What?"

"Brightest witch of our age. That's what they say, not smartest"

Hermione can't quite understand why she corrected Parkinson, all she knows is that Parkinson makes her blood boil and she wants her to feel the same irritation that she is feeling.

"For the Brightest, smartest, know it all or whatever else you're called, you're not very smart" Parkinson answers her voice rising

"What's that supposed to mean?" demands Hermione

The tension is high between them. Hermione knows she should inject some calmness into the conversation if she's going to get answers, but it isn't that easy with Parkinson. She has a way of finding every nerve and poking and pinching it.  

"Why don't you work it out, Granger"

"Well why don't you spell it out then Parkinson" Hermione spits back now aware they had moved closer with and were a mere step away from each other.

"Yes Ms Parkinson, please do spell it out" comes a slow deliberate voice

Both Hermione and Parkinson jump back in surprise.

 Whipping around they see Professor Snape standing at the door. Hermione's insides squirm and twist. lost for words, It seems like an eternity before anyone speaks.

"If these petty school dramatics are over, perhaps you will be so kind as to get out of my classroom". He pauses "Except for you Ms Parkinson".

 Hermione sees Parkinson shift nervously as scurries out the door past Snape toward Breakfast, her heart beating in futility.

The remainder of the day was without incident, only if you exclude the fact that Parkinson was consuming every thought Hermione was having. It couldn't be love Hermione rationalised, it was curiosity and perhaps a little crush. But whatever it was, it did not change a thing. Parkinson is still always there in her mind, constantly tormenting her.

Hermione cannot stop thinking about Parkinson for the entire day and If they by chance their eyes lock, her eyes burn and ache like she's been staring at the sun for too long.

 By the time dinner arrives Hermione is ready to scream. Electric currents pumped through her body instead of blood. So consumed with thoughts of Parkinson she barely notices the Gryffindor table hush in silence.

"Good evening"

Turning she's startled to see Professor Dumbledore standing behind her and Harry, looking taller than usual from the sitting position, his light blue eyes sparkling down at them over his half-moon glasses.

"Good evening, Professor" both Hermione and Harry reply in unison

Smiling down at Hermione "Professor Snape tells me things at progressing well with you and Ms Parkinson...and the Wolfbane potion" states Professor Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling down at her, a smile on his lips.

Hermione's cheeks flush red with heat as she shifts in her seat "Yes Professor"

"Ah very good, very good. This will be most useful to us. Smiles professor I was wondering" Professor Dumbledore says turning to Harry if perchance you could visit me after dinner, Harry?"

"Yes, of course Professor. Is everything alright?" Harry inquiries

"Why yes of course, why wouldn't it be?" He replies still smiling "I look forward to seeing you after dinner. Now I believe I have interrupted enough."

Hermione watches as Professor Dumbedore strides towards the Professor's table, his long purple cloak sweeping the floor as he walks.

What do you reckon Dumbledore wants" Ron whispers loudly across the table, as he grabs another piece of chicken from the giant pile in the center of the table.

"No idea" Harry replies his brow knitted in deep thought

"It must be about you know who" answers Hermione "come to the library after your done Harry, we'll wait for you there"

"The library" moans Ron "why can't we wait for him in the common room"

"Because," Hermione says cringing a little as Ron takes a giant bite from the chicken "it’s quiet, we won't be interrupted and knowing Dumbledore we'll have to research something"

To which Ron simply shrugs and takes another big bite of food.

Hermione was quiet for the remainder of dinner, wondering what Professor Dumbledore had in store for Harry. A twinge of guilt gullies in her belly. She has been so preoccupied with thoughts of Parkinson that she has let some of her research on protective spells fall to the wayside. How can she possibly protect and help Harry if she's too busy fantasising about Parkinson, someone who would no doubt hex them the moment she could. She even admitted to knowing dark spells. 

These thoughts carry with her into the library where Ron and she patiently wait.

Staring out the window, Hermione watches the sun sink lower in the sky, changing from this great bright sphere to a small slither, the light of day slips away, giving way to the blue black night sky. There are barely any students left in the library. It's quiet except for the gentle crackle of candles burning.

Lost in her own private world, she admirers the twinkle of the first few scattered stars pushing their way through the twilight sky.

The tapping of Ron's foot against the ancient floors catches her attention. He doesn't say it but he's nervous for Harry. Instead, he continues to flick through his Quidditch magazine for the umpteenth time.

Hours pass without word from Harry.

"It's past curfew," Ron says breaking the silence "are we allowed to be in here. I mean you've got a special pass, but I haven't"

Hermione knows this is Ron’s way of saying it's late, Harry should be back by now and he is concerned, because in all the years of schooling he's never ever worried about sneaking out way past curfew

"I'm sure Harry will be here soon" she reassures

And still the hour's pass. A small rustling sound nearby catches her attention, it makes her think someone else is in the library but that's not possible it's now well past curfew and she's sure it's just her and Ron.

"Harry, bloody hell mate. It's nearly breakfast" says Ron, his shoulders dropping in relief

The look on Harry's face is one of exhaustion and worry.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asks Hermione deeply concerned

"Voldemort" Harry begins

Hermione notices Ron shiver beside her at the mention of Voldemort's name

"He doesn't have a soul" Harry blurts out

"Yeah well, you have to be pretty bloody heartless and evil to have done what he's done" states Ron

"No. He doesn't have one soul" Harry says in frustration

Both Hermione and Ron look at each confused, hoping the other may offer some answers.

You don't understand" Harry says his voice rising slightly as he begins anxiously pacing. It is as if it has finally sunk in what Dumbledore had told him "he's got more than one and Dumbledore is going to find them and destroy them. I should help. I have to help. There must be some information on Horcruxes here somewhere. I need to research" he mutters to himself making his way to the restricted section of the library

Harry was talking so fast and in such riddles confusing Hermione more than advanced Arithmancy equation ever would.

"What does he mean more than one soul?" Ron asks perplexed looking at Hermione for answers

"Harry. Stop. Calm down" Hermione says raising her own voice, and grabbing his shoulders to get his attention "We don't understand sit down and tell us what happened from the beginning and slowly”

Staring at her with his bright green eyes Harry breaths in deeply and nods as he plonks down into a seat exhausted.

Hermione and Ron listen to Harry eyes wide as he explains all Dumbledore had told him earlier. Hermione's mind is a buzz with a flurry of questions.

"You’re saying that" Hermione pauses "Voldemort"

"Hermione," Ron says through gritted teeth "don't you say his name too"

"Ron, fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. Now harry" she says turning back to Harry "Dumbledore believes Voldemort split his soul and put them into objects so he could become immortal?"

Harry nods

"And the object is called a Horcrux?

Harry nods again, his eyes dropping in tiredness

"And the way to make a Horcrux is to commit murder or do something very evil"

Again Harry nods

"I've not read about them," Hermione says more herself than anyone else, her eyebrows furrowed together in confused concentration as she tries to recall perhaps seeing the word in the many texts she has read.

"Dumbledore is sure of this?" she asks

"Yes. He took me into a memory of a discussion he had with a past Professor, Slughorn was his name, Voldemort or when he was still Tom asks him about it. Dumbledore wants Slughorn to come back to teach at Hogwarts

"What subject?" asks Ron

"Ron that doesn't matter" Hermione snaps "And Dumbledore believes he made more than one Horcrux?"

"He did kill a lot of people," Ron says absently

Hermione catches Harry ‘s eye. A heavy sadness weighs over her. Her heart aches for Harry and the loss of his parents, a deep sense of empathy bellows in her belly. It takes every ounce of restraint not to just to reach out and hug him tight, but she knows he wouldn't appreciate that at this moment.

"Yes Riddle asked about making more than one in the memory," says Harry

Does Dumbledore know how many Horcruxes?

Harry shakes his head "Dumbledore thinks potentially six"

"Six!" exclaim Ron and Hermione simultaneously in disbelief

"He would have six souls?" Ron says in shock

"No Ron" explains Hermione "one soul split into six, like a smashed glass, the shards are fragments of what was once whole. His one soul split into six pieces leaving him with ..."

"Seven" interjects Harry "if you include the bit that's left in him"

"Actually seven is a very magical number." Begins Hermione "Even muggles believe that seven is a lucky number. It's the ages people believe magic first shows itself. There are seven colours of a rainbow, seven floors in Hogwarts, seven days in..." Hermione stops a thought penetrates her mind "Harry was the diary from our second year, the one Gin....was that a Horcrux?"

Harry nods

There is silence amongst the three friends as they each take in the news. The memory of one of her dearest friends being possessed, the fact that Harry had nearly died, she herself had been petrified and eventhou this all had occurred years earlier with many near misses in between then and now, it still felt like it had been not that long ago at all. They had all been through so much and now this. This is not something Hermione had expected or could possibly anticipate. There was nothing, not one potion or charm or spell she could think of that would help Harry if Voldemort was immortal

"Does Dumbledore know where they might be?" ask Hermione in hope

No answers Harry running his fingers through black messy hair

Does he know what they the objects are?" questions Hermione

"He has an idea but he's not sure so he didn't say"

"Well this is bloody brilliant" mutters Ron

Hermione has an uneasy feeling that there is more to this story than Dumbledore has told Harry. Her gut twists and turns in nerves. The old wooden bookshelves nearby creak and crack like tired old bones as they sit in silent defeat.

 _No_ Hermione tells herself _we've faced challenges before and won and we will keep fighting._

"You're right," says a determined Hermione making both boys jump "Harry we need to research and know more but I doubt Hogwarts library will have anything on it. But I know someone that might be able to help. Harry, we are going to need your invisibility cloak and your Marauders Map."


	10. The Language of Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very long chapter and lots of things happen in it that will be elaborated on in coming chapters- you may get frustrated in one part of this chapter but if you persist there is some reward at the end before building to a climax in the next chapter
> 
> Sorry for the delay - I went on holiday and thought I had posted it before I left

For the first time in what seems like forever Hermione's thoughts have not been consumed by sexual fantasies about Parkinson. She spent the remainder of the evening devising ways to find out more about Horcruxes, her mind mulling over the possible objects that would entice the likes of someone like Voldemort over and over, ideas and thoughts spinning around and around until she finally succumbed to sleep.

"Are you sure about this Hermione, can she be trusted?" asks Harry in a hushed voice over breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning

"Yes Harry," says Hermione chewing the inside of her mouth nervously 

She's not sure but it's the best chance they have to find out more about Horcruxes

"I'm not sure we should tell anyone else"

Normally it's her who second guesses most of their ideas and adventures, questioning whether there might be a better way, but today it's Harry who is unsure

"Have you got a better idea?" she says mildly Irritated.

She has actually thought this through as opposed to being brash and just doing the first thing that pops into her head like Harry and Ron do so often.

"She's never let us down before mate" offers Ron "I trust Hermione," he says shrugging and reaching for a stack of pancakes

Smiling at Ron a warmth of appreciation runs through her it's rare for him to side with her over Harry.

"We'll do this tonight straight after dinner, that will give us more time, no one will be wondering where we are for a few hours. And by the time anyone thinks to ask about us, we will be back in the common room. They'll be none the wiser " Hermione says putting an end to the discussion

By the time dinner arrives Hermione is a bundle of nerves and it's her that is starting to second guess the plan. What if she's wrong, what if they encounter a Death Eater or worse what if they get caught and expelled? Contrary to her, both Harry and Ron seem to be overjoyed to be breaking the rules, their confidence and excitement regarding the plan building as the day progressed.

"Ok I've got everything," says Harry tapping his under his school jumper "we'll go as soon as Ron's finished eating"

Ron nods appreciatively. _Never get in the way of that boy and food_ thinks Hermione smiling to herself.

Both Ron and Harry practically jump from the seats the moment Ron places his dessert spoon down dramatically to symbolise he's finished eating.

Safely away from the prying eyes and ears of the Great Hall Hermione asks "Harry your map highlights seven ways into Hogsmeade, which one takes us closest to Tomes and Scrolls?"

"You said the entrance through that one-eyed old crone’s hump. That rooms not far from here right Harry" suggests Ron

"That's right Ron"

There's an undeniable mischievous look on their faces, which makes Hermione feel a little uneasy. They have obviously spoken about this unregistered trip to Hogsmeade

"So if it all goes according to plan Hermione we'll be back well before curfew?" asks Ron

"Yes, that's right Ron" Hermione replies cautiously

"That's good, plenty of time"

"Harry," Hermione asks slowly "where exactly in Hogsmeade does the passageway through the one-eyed old crone’s hump end up?"

Hermione definitely knows they are up to something when Harry stares at his map as if he is studying it for the first time.

"It looks like it will take us to the cellar of Honeydukes" Harry replies innocently

"Harry, Ron this is not an excursion we have serious work to do" Hermione replies annoyed

"Aw come on Hermione" appeals Ron "we have plenty of time for both"

"What if we only go to Honeydukes once we visit Tomes and Scrolls" suggests Harry, his big green eyes pleading with Hermione to say yes

"Oh fine then " Hermione concedes, it's always hard to say no to Harry especially when he looks at her that way "let's go then," she says with a small smile shaking her head.

Successfully avoiding other students they arrive at the large stone statue of Gunhilda, the one-eyed crone, her single eye boring down at them daring them to try and pass her

"Dissendium," says Harry tapping the large hunchback of the statue with his wand to reveal a short stone slide for them to go down.

Harry followed by Hermione and then Ron land in a very narrow tight earthy passage.

"Single file will be easier" offers Harry crouching over so he doesn't hit his head on the stone ceiling

No wonder this passageway is guarded by a statue of a hunchback thinks Hermione who also has to bow her head also to avoid contact with the ceiling.

Hermione's back aches as they wind their way through the passageway that twists and turns like a rabbit's burrow, she can only imagine the pain that Harry and Ron are in given their tall statures but to their credit neither complain.

Finally, after what must be at least an hour they reach a large worn stone and a very steep staircase.

With Harry leading the way they eventually reach a large trap door. Using all his might Harry pushes the trapdoor aside to reveal the cellar of Honeydukes.

 Barrels upon barrels of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable line the walls. Giant chunks of creamy nougat, caramel coloured toffee, pile upon pile of every flavour bean and so much very more fill the room. Hermione hears Ron lick his lips as enters the cellar, she has to act quick or she will lose him in here.

"C'mon the quicker we get to Tomes and Scrolls the quicker we can come back to Honeydukes"

Nodding in agreeance Harry pulls out his invisibility cloak from beneath his shirt. Hermione notices Ron hungrily gazing at the sweets on offer as Harry covers the three of them.

Years of practice using the invisibility cloak has their walk perfectly synchronised to the point that they barely bump into anything despite the plethora of sweets in troughs and barrels tightly squeezed into the shop.

Once safely outside they remove the cloak and make their way towards Tomes and Scrolls. Mindful of the surroundings, one thing they do not want is to bump into one of their professors. The shops in Hogsmeade are staying open later tonight so it's quite possible that a professor may be picking up some additional supplies. 

If Hogsmeade was picturesque during the day it was nothing compared to the beauty it oozes at twilight as the sun gently kisses goodbye the stunningly beautifully thatched roof cottages. Enchanted candles flicker and burn brightly in the shop windows and in the lush green Juniper trees illuminating the streets. Hermione breaths in deeply the coolness of the crisp fresh air and the gin like smell of the trees instantly easing her sore muscles.

She smiles to herself as she sees Mrs Fadington fussing about in her bookstore, her plump rear bouncing up and down as she places her precious books in order.

"Bloody hell" gasps Ron "25 galleons for a quill. That's bloody outrageous" Ron says staring at the brightly coloured quills in the shop front.

A twinge of guilt races through Hermione she hasn't given Parkinson her red quill back yet. 

"C'mon" says Harry "Hermione you go in first you know her"

Pushing through the heavy wooden door they are greeted with the warmest hello imaginable.

"You're back my dear," says Mrs Fadington cheerily "and with some friends. Have you all come to see my new confounded sec..."

"No" says Hermione her cheeks burning in embarrassment at the memory of nearly being caught with that book "we were wondering...well that is"

"Oh my" gasps Mrs Fadington grasping at her chest "if it isn't Harry Potter himself"

" Good evening ma'am" mumbles Harry

"Ooohhh as handsome as he is polite. That's a rare find nowadays" says Mrs Fadington winking at Hermione "why if I was younger...."

Hermione and Ron can't help but giggle as Harry shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other beside them.

"And who is this rather tall fellow?"

"Err Ron Weasley" replies Ron slightly uncomfortable that Mrs Fadington's focus was now on him

"Excuse me" interrupts Hermione before Mrs Fadington can question Ron "we were hoping you could help us with with some books on a particular topic?"

"Why of course" replies Mrs Fadington clapping her hands excitedly, smiling broadly at them all

"We were after some information regarding Horcruxes," says Hermione 

 The smile fades quickly from Mrs Fadingtons face, her bright eyes darkening as she stares down at them

"And why would you like a book on that subject?" Questions Mrs Fadington all the friendliness and warmth in her voice disappearing

"Research" replies Hermione nervously chewing the inside of her bottom lip this is not going well.

"That is very very dark magic, I do not think it's appropriate for you to be reading. What makes you think that I would even have such subject matter in my beautiful shop" Mrs Fadington says flatly

Hermione's heart drops this was their one true chance of finding out more if Mrs Fadington doesn't help them Hermione isn't sure there is anyone else to assist. 

"Excuse me ma'am," says Harry politely "We know its dark magic and we can't explain why we need to find out more about Horcruxes but we just do. You're our only hope" His bright green eyes pleading with her like that have so many times before with Hermione

There is something in the way that Harry speaks that just melts your heart. His eyes gleam sincerity

Hermione breathes a small sigh of relief as Mrs Fadington's gestures begin to soften after a moment of staring intently at Harry.

"Oh very well, if you can't trust the chosen one who can you trust?" She concedes "follow me," she says leading them towards the back of the store "I do not keep these types of books readily available for anyone to purchase"

Hermione's cheeks burn as they pass the confounded section. It takes every ounce of constraint not to glance over at the book Witches Who Like Witches, that had captivated her not so long ago, she can't help but wonder whether she might get an opportunity to finish reading it.

Pulling aside a string of long colourful rainbow beads Mrs Fadington ushers them through to the back room.

Hermione gasps in appreciation, her eyes widen in awe. The darkened room is filled with books of varying sizes from the floor to the ceiling. Breathing in deeply the scent of aged parchment fills her sense, her fingers ache to reach out and trace along the aged leather tomes, it is obvious that Mrs Fadington has a fine appreciation of the written word with each book immaculately stacked and cared for. In the center of the room sits a vintage table, candlelight flickers against the scrolls and quills lying across the table.

"Please take a seat. Would you like a tea and biscuit?"

"No thank you we just had dinner," say Hermione before Ron can reply. The sooner they get the book the sooner they can get back to Hogwarts and she can begin researching 

Pulling at a long gold chain from her around her neck she retrieves a small golden key buried deep within her bosom.

"That's a safe spot" mumbles Ron rewarding him a sharp jab in the ribs with Hermione's elbow

Hidden behind one of the larger bookshelves is a smaller one barely noticeable as it is easily dwarfed by the others. Mrs Faddington pulls aside book to reveal a safe. _Very clever_ thinks Hermione.

Whispering a charm as Mrs Fadington turns the key, the safe pops open. Hermione tries to peer around to see what other books may be hidden in there but her view is blocked by the store owners plump physique.

Mrs Fadington turns carefully with two large tired black leather bound books in hand. The worn and scratched gold lettering of the first text still clearly reads Magick Moste Evile. Hermione gasps as she reads the title of the second text, a rare tome that has been barred from many libraries and bookstores

"Is that Secrets of the Darkest Arts?" asks Hermione, her mouth agape " it's very rare."

Depends on who's library you are looking at but yes it is rather. I don't think I have ever said this before" says Mrs Fadington shaking her head "but it is a horrible, horrible book. Taking a deep breath she continues "It is the only known source of instructions on the" she pauses "creation and destruction of a Horcrux."

A shiver races down Hermione's spine Mrs Fadington did not have any qualms giving Hermione the other book Flora for and Against the Dark, and that had an abundance of dark magic in it that made Hermione very uneasy. She can not begin to imagine what this book contains.

Slowly passing the book to Hermione Mrs Fadington stops mid-flight "you do know what you are doing don't you" she says a concerned motherly look on her face

Hermione can merely nod as she reaches to meet Mrs Fadington hand and carefully take the books from her

"Consider this a loan only. I want these book back. And make sure no one else reads it"

***

All three are quiet except for the occasional sucking noise that is heard from Ron nibbling on a lolly from Honeydukes. The tomes weigh heavy in Hermione's arms, an uncomfortable energy trickling through her body as if the dark magic within the pages are seeping out into her very pores. The urge to pull herself away from the book as soon as she's back in the dorm is very strong.

This particular passage back to Hogwarts is far longer than the previous one they took through the one-eyed croan. Harry had failed to mention that they could not take the same path back as it is impossible to push through the hunch back. If he had Hermione would have ushered them out of Honeydukes a lot quicker. 

The sky has darkened considerably, as they enter the grounds of Hogwarts.

"It's late, we should use the invisibility cloak," say Harry pulling it out from beneath his top

With the cloak covering them, the three friends huddle together and make their way into Hogwarts walking in perfect harmony 

The corridors are empty and silent, it's past curfew, Hermione has permission to be out after all Dumbledore has said she can use the library at any time she needs, Harry and Ron do not have such luxury, if they are careful they will be back in the common room and no one will be none the wiser thinks Hermione.

Slowly and cautiously they make their way towards their common room. They do not want to be caught by a Professor particularly with the books Hermione has tightly tucked under arms.

The sudden sound of footsteps has them stopping abruptly. Each looking to each other to confirm they heard the same thing. The footsteps move closer, Hermione's heart begins to race, shifting her legs she has the sudden urge to pee

Still, the footsteps come closer they are heading straight for them.

"We'll be fine as long as we stay under the cloak" whispers Hermione as they edge towards the wall to make way for individual to pass

With baited breath they wait, the steps getting closer and closer louder and louder. Hermione can feel her heart beating hard against her chest, the palms of her hands sweat against the leather tomes as she grips them tightly, waiting until finally around the corner comes Parkinson. 

Hermione's breath hitches _what is she doing out past curfew_ she thinks

Pressed firmly against the cold hard wall they wait for Parkinson to pass

"What the hell is Parkinson doing out" whispers Ron harshly once Parkinson has passed them "letting another werewolf in to get Hermione?"

"Let's follow her and find out" say Harry before Hermione can reply

Her heart instantly beating even faster she has no option but to follow. Please please let Parkinson be heading back to her dorm, prays Hermione.

Scenario after scenario play over in her mind. Her heart plummets at the thought that Parkinson may be meeting someone.

Students were renown for sneaking out of their dorms past curfew for late night rendezvous with students from other houses. The thought of someone touching Parkinson the way she wants to touch her sickens her.

On their own accord, Hermiones eyes drift down Parkinson's slender spine, biting her bottom lip stifling an appreciative moan as her eyes soak in Parkinson's perfectly peach shaped rear, the strong muscles pulling her skirt against her as she moves with effortless beauty. The perfect swivel of Parkinson’s hips, they way they sway from side to side mesmerising her drawing heat down her spine building in her fire. It is all of the sudden very hot beneath the cloak, she feels claustrophobic, Harry and Ron feel too close to her.

As quiet as they try the combination of three pairs of footsteps against the hard floor has Parkinson spinning around wand in hand ready to attack

"Who's there?" demands Parkinson the slight quiver in her voice and tremor in her hands giving away the fear she is feeling

Her eyes are wide as she scans the hallway past them wand in hand. Hermione can clearly hear Parkinson's breath has quickened in fear in the deathly silence of the night.

 Her heart sinks she wants to reach out and comfort Parkinson tell her she has nothing to fear, it's just her she's safe. But how could Parkinson possibly feel safe with three Gryffindors barring down at her in the middle of the night

Moments pass, Parkinson catches a glimpse of the moonlight stream through a window onto her hand, slowly her eyes follow the beams towards the moon shining down "Not a full moon" whispers Parkinson to herself in relief.

Finally convinced that she is alone Parkinson continues down the hallway turning towards the library.

"Wait" whispers Hermione softly as both Ron and Harry make to follow her again "you go back to the common room with the books. I'll follow Parkinson"

She's not completely sure what makes her say it but the thought of Parkinson feeling scared ambushed by three Gryffindors drives her to

"We're not leaving you alone with a Death Eater" Ron whispers back harshly

"She's not a Death Eater Ron. Listen, I'll be fine I'm allowed to be out you two are not and these books"  she says pointing to the texts "I don't want to be caught with them, what if they get confiscated then what"

"Hermione..." begins Harry his voice laced with concern

"I'll take the invisibility cloak she won't even know I'm here. We can't lose these books to Filch or anyone else"

"No way," says Ron firmly crossing his arms

"You'll be careful?" asks Harry after a moment of silence.

"Harry" says a shocked Ron.

 "She's got a point, Ron we can't afford to lose these books. Just be careful" Harry says turning to Hermione

"If she tries anything, punch her in the nose like you punched Malfoy, and hex her too" Ron advises knowing he had no chance of winning this debate of two against one.

"Ron I will not punch her" Hermione scolds "I have no intention of getting seen by her" 

"C'mon Ron lets go. We will wait for you back in the common room" says Harry

With the invisibility on Hermione watches as her two best friends walk away from her, rolling her eyes at Ron's mumblings something about leaving one of their own with a Death Eater 

Hermione is short of breath as she swiftly makes her way down the hallways hoping she is retracing Parkinson's footsteps correctly. She has assumed that Parkinson has made her way to the library, but there are many hidden passages in Hogwarts that Parkinson may have gone down

Relief washes over her when she sees Parkinson sitting at the same desk she and Ron sat at the other evening waiting for Harry. Only a few texts and parchments lay before her she is scribing something intently

Relief quickly turns to nerves and curiosity. What is Pansy Parkinson doing in the library after curfew and what is she studying thinks Hermione

Deciding she needs to get a closer look Hermione cautiously moves towards Parkinson careful not to make too much noise, her heart drumming frantically against her chest with every small step she takes. Nervous energy races through her legs, her belly alight with flutters. With her eyes firmly fixed ahead, she tries to steady her breathing until she catches the scent of Parkinson's perfume, unlocking her memory banks and transporting her back to that evening in the Filch's cleaning cupboard and every other shared class since then. It was such a heavenly smell, so warm and sensual with its fruity composition and traces of powdery vanilla.

Her pulse pounding against her temples she forgets all about the parchment Parkinson is reading instead soaking in all of Parkinson's fine features.

She breathes in deeply as the moonlight cascades through the window kissing Parkinson's pale skin, her dark black hair shimmering against the moonbeams she's beautiful thinks Hermione aching to reach out and stroke her hair. Her eyes flow down to the full and pillowy shape of Parkinson 's lip. 

An electric charge streams down her spine, all thoughts giving way to the sensation of pins and needles dancing in her pants. A feeling of uncontrollable heat begins resonating through her. Her mouth becoming dry, her muscles tensing and an overwhelming excitement bubbling within her.

There's that little pout Parkinson does when she reads, the same pout she first noticed in potions and had consumed her thoughts and desires ever since. She wants to lean over and cup her cheeks in her hands and taste those lips to see if they actually taste as sweet as their cherry colour. She can feel the soft cloth of the cloak pushing out and back against her lip and as her breath quickens.

Shifting uncomfortably, she tries to remain calm and collected but the overwhelming throbbing in her heart and between her legs is consuming her.

And when Parkinson loosens her Slytherin tie undoing the first two buttons of her crisp white school shirt she thinks she might actually faint.

Leaning against the nearest bookshelf for support the cracking sound the old wood makes snaps her back to attention.

Parkinson's eyes shoot up staring directly at Hermione. Holding her breath Hermione scoots behind the nearest bookshelf, stay calm she tells herself. The invisibility cloak weighing down and closing in on her all the same, with tense breath she forces herself to breathe, pulling the cloak off in desperate need of fresh air.

 _Get a hold of yourself, this is ridiculous you’re acting like...like_ Seamus she scolds herself

Summoning courage from who knows where she steps out from behind the shelf. Remember why you're here she tells herself Find out what Parkinson is up to

Parkinson now with her back to Hermione leans casually on the palm of her hand as she returns to reading.

"Parkinson"

It takes every ounce of constraint not to burst out laughing as Parkinson jumps In her seat swirling around faster than a classroom of Cornish Pixies

"Merlin Granger" gasps Parkinson clasping at her chest reaching for her wand

"Sorry" says Hermione trying her best not to laugh 

"It's not funny Granger. There's a bloody war coming and you're sneaking around like some... like some.... like something....I could have hexed you"

"You'll have to be faster than that, your wand is a bit limp' says Hermione nodding towards the downward pointing wand in Parkinson's hand

She can't quite explain it but there is something about Parkinson being caught off guard her usual prime composure being frazzled that brings out a cheeky streak in Hermione that she didn't know she had.

The fire now in Parkinson's eyes sends a shiver down her spine. With a sky grin, Parkinson lifts her wand slowly pointing it directly at Hermione.

"Would you like to me hex you, Granger?"

Any other time someone pointing a wand at Hermione threatening to hex her would have reaching for her own wand ready for battle but there is something a little more playful in Parkinson's tone 

Drunk on lust, the excitement of the moment along with the longing pressure in her loins builds with every passing moment.

"Do you think you have what it takes?"

There was that undeniable air of challenge surrounding them. The gloves had been thrown down.

Shrugging her shoulder with a devious twinkle in her eye "let's just say I've been reading up on things" says Parkinson

There is something in Parkinson's tone that Hermione can't quite place but it has peaked her curiosity. It's almost as if she has found something in the library that Hermione should know but has missed.

Hermione is about to ask her what she means when the sound of something resembling stepping on a child's squeaky toy stops her. It's Mrs Norris the scrawny dust coloured cat and loyal accomplice to Argus Filch, caretaker of Hogwarts and one of the most disliked individuals about, who takes immense pleasure in punishing students. If he had his way the old punishments of students being hung from shackles would be a daily occurrence.

 "Meow"

Hermione had never wanted to hurt an animal before but right now she was fighting the urge to kick Mrs Norris with her bulgy yellow eyes right over the bookshelves for interrupting Parkinson and her

"You better hide. Filch will be close behind and you'll get into trouble" says Hermione wanting to protect Parkinson from detention

"I'm allowed to be here" she adds a twinge of pride in her tone

"And Why would I have to hide?"

"For being out past curfew, of course", replies Hermione "just because you’re in the library doesn't mean you can’t get into trouble"

"What makes you think I don't have permission too?"

"Who would give you permission?

Regret showers over Hermione the moment the words spill from her mouth. Parkinson's eyes fill with pain which is quickly replaced by anger

"I didn't..."

"Who the hell do you think you are Granger?" spits Parkinson "you're not the only one with brains and some talent" she says now stuffing her books and parchment into her school bag angrily

"I didn't mean it like that" pleas Hermione

But Parkinson is too angry to acknowledge Hermione's attempt at an apology "this is too hard, just too hard, too hard, she's too hard " mumbles Parkinson to herself like a crazed person "just too hard, there's a war and I'm trying to ugh" 

"Meow"

"Shut up you flea infested fur bag. Get out of here before I turn you into a fur hat" says Parkinson angrily to Mrs Norris "and tell your precious little owner if he or you bother me again while I am studying I will respond in the way us pure blood used to treat servants"

The threat has Mrs Norris scurrying from the library tail erect

"Parkinson" whispers Hermione cautiously "I didn't..."

"Do you really think you're going to win?" shoots Parkinson towards Hermione

"W.. what" stutters Hermione

"War Granger. You know who. Come on keep up" says Parkinson snapping her fingers before throwing her school bag over her shoulder to make exit from the library

"Parkinson" calls out Hermione as Parkinson begins to leave

Stopping with her back still to Hermione "He's too strong Granger, you can't beat him" says Parkinson softly head bowed down

Swimming with confusion it's takes a moment for Hermione to catch up, she should be used to it. This is what happens when you are on the brink of a war. One moment you could be laughing with your friends the next you are encompassed in overwhelming melancholy at the thought that they are hurt or worse in a war. They say all roads lead to Rome holds true unless there is a war brewing and then all roads and discussion inevitable turn to war, death and despair for the unknown.

"I have to try" replies Hermione just as softly

"You might lose"

"Some things are worth fighting for" she says. It's something has told herself many times over the years

"You could die"

"They say some things are worth dying for"

"Well, they are stupid. I don't have any intention of dying not for anyone or anything." says Parkinson matter of factly 

And with final statement, Parkinson leaves the library leaving Hermione standing there alone sadness sitting hard on her chest.

 Like slow waves on a shore regret and heartache wash over her. Her jaw quivering in painful agony as she tries to control her tears. She longs to go back to a few moments ago when everything was fine and the promise of something exciting loomed in the air. She waits a few moments hoping Parkinson will come back but she doesn't.

With a heavy heart and tears threatening to spill down her cheeks Hermione somehow manages to make it back to her common room dazed and operating in complete autopilot not even realising she had arrived at her destination until the Fat Lady asked her for the password.

Taking a deep breath she straightens her back bracing herself she knows the boys will be waiting for her report back, as much as she just wants to run to her room and bury her face into her pillow and desperately let the tears flow she can't and she has a role to play sadness is not one of them.

"Hermione what happen?"

"What's Parkinson up to?"

The questions come as soon as she enters

"I don't know Mrs Norris interrupted us" Hermione confesses. A twinge of hatred bellows in her for that blasted cat

"That bloody cat, someone should feed her to fang" says Ron

"Sorry" she says sadly

"That's ok Hermione, we'll work it out," says Harry

Harry has taken her sadness as her failure in obtaining information for them. The sincerity in his voice making it hard for her to maintain her composure.  

The air restricting around her like heavy weights on her shoulders she needs to leave, she can't stay another moment tears threatening to break free

"I'm going to bed I'll start reading the book tomorrow," she says

"Hermione" Harry's calls after her but she can't turn around

Panting for air Hermione races into the girl's bathroom, a carousel of confusion plaguing her thoughts. Hitting her forehead against the now closed bathroom door her body writhe in agony, tears flow uncontrollably down her cheeks. Turning she slides slowly down the door to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest her pulse pounding in her temples dropping her wet face between her knees she begins sobbing loudly, It's true they could lose this battle, she could die, her friends could die that final thought has her digging her nail deep into her flesh painfully but nothing would compare to the emotional pain of losing her friends. She can't imagine a life without Ron, Harry, Ginny, Neville....Hermione inhales deeply almost choking on the hot tears still streaming down her face, Parkinson she would actually miss Parkinson too this is ridiculous she tells herself not even two months ago she would have hexed Parkinson and Parkinson would have easily hexed her too without batting an eyelid and now she's sitting on a cold bathroom floor practically hyperventilating over her. I don't even know what side of this war she on, I don't even know how she actually feeling none of this would be happening had it not been for that one ridiculous night that one uncharacteristic kiss. I don't even know if we would be able to speak to one another let alone compatible, she's been an absolute cow to me up until now and still the thoughts swirl around her brain as the tears flow freely

Parkinson and I it's as if the gods are against us, warning us against each other every time we are alone someone or something interrupts us.

Parkinson's right this is too hard "I give up" whispers Hermione aloud

Rubbing her knuckles deep into her eyes the incalculable rhythmically sound of water slowly hitting the porcelain surface rouses Hermione from a deep slumber. First aware of the coolness of the air followed by the hardness of the floor it takes a moment for Hermione to realise that she must have cried herself to sleep in the bathroom. Unsure of the time.  Her body flinching as she tries to get up, everything hurts her neck muscles spasm. The combination of the one-eyed tight passage to Hogsmeade and sleeping on the floor has her body feeling bruised and sore, her shoulders knotted into a dull annoying ache

Groaning like an old woman riddled with arthritis she manages to pull herself up from the chilled floor

Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror "I look a right mess" she says her eyes still puffy as she tries to wipe away the remanence of dried tears and snot from her face "I can't let anyone see me like this" ignoring the pain in her shoulder as she straightens her shoulders staring back deep into her own eyes, with a determined chin "and I'll be damn if anyone lets me feel like that again" she promises herself firmly before heading to the shower.

Her muscles feel bruised and tired as she sits in her reserved spot next to Harry and opposite Ron. She has done her best to cover the bags under her eyes and if anyone has noticed how tired she must look they are not saying it, perhaps just assuming she stayed up all night studying as she has done so many nights before  

An internal battle of will versus desire ensuing inside her unbeknown to all those around her. As hard as it is Hermione is making a concerted effort to look over at the Slytherin table, the pull to just glance over just once to see how Parkinson slept how she looks is strong but instead, she remains focused on the plate before her. She made a promise to herself this morning and she wasn't going to break it.

"Harry I might say you will have a big fall and break something actually maybe two things," says Ron adding another fluffy pancake to the already large stack on his plate

"What?" says Hermione confused she hadn't been listening to their conversation

"In Divination tonight with Trewlaney"

"Oh great" huffs Hermione rolling her eyes she had completely forgotten tonight was their monthly compulsory elective Divination lesson and to top it off it's with the Slytherins.  She's actually so emotionally drained from the previous evening she barely feels anything "what an absolute waste of time. Honestly, I don't know what benefit this is to anyone"

"Well the way Dumbledore has been whispering in Trewlaneys ear maybe someone is getting some benefit," says Seamus winking and nodding towards the professor's table.

"Seamus" scolds Hermione "that is just disgusting"

"See for your self"

 Turning to the professor's table, sure enough, Dumbledore is talking quite closely to Trewlaney like he doesn't want the other professors to hear.

Hermione tries to recall that day a few weeks ago catching the two professors talking on her way to the library, it didn't look like they were lovers talking but Hermione was so preoccupied with thoughts of Parkinson that she wasn't paying much attention to anything else

The screeching and flapping of hundreds of owls swooping in through the windows to deliver the daily mail break her thoughts.

She hears the students all around her gasp in admiration. Souring towards her is not the usual tawny barn owl that brings her morning subscriptions to the daily prophet but one of the largest most majestic owls she has ever seen, its wingspan must be at least five feet. It soars high above around her not once not but twice but three times as if to announce its arrival to all the other owls and students in the room. All eyes are on this magnificent bird.

Landing with a thud in front of Hermione she is so taken aback by its distinctive ear tufts and bright big orange eyes that resemble the colour of pumpkins staring intently at her that she doesn't notice the package in its talons.

"It's a Eurasian eagle owl" she hears Neville "whisper they are rare"

"Hermione someone sent you flowers" exclaims Ginny excitedly nudging her

"What?"

"Flowers. Look"

In the talons of the owl is one of the prettiest bouquet of colourful flowers Hermione has ever seen. Their sweet almost sickly, smell cutting through the scent the mornings breakfast.   

Her cheeks flush red in embarrassment as she takes the bouquet from the owl "thank you"

With a deep hoot the owl soars off but not before completing another lap of honour around the great hall.

"Ooooh how romantic" coos Lavender Brown

"Who are they from?" asks Ginny eagerly

"I don't know there isn't a card" replies Hermione overwhelmed and in shock, she has never received flowers before let alone in such a dramatic fashion but she can't suppress a small happy smile

"Well it's someone who really like you if those flowers are to go by," says Neville peering over the table

"What do you mean?" asks Lavender

"Flowers have meanings, my gran told me there was a wizard who fell in love with a muggle girl years ago, but her father didn't like him or want her seeing him so they had secret affair he couldn't really send her messages via owl so every morning he would send her secret messages they devised through flowers. Somehow muggles cotton on to it too I'm not sure how. Anyhow, I think those flowers are all about love." 

 _Neville was right_ thinks Hermione she remembers one of those mystery shows on the BBC she watched, It was one of her grandmas favourites, two female gardeners and make be detectives would solve murder mysteries in the setting of professional gardening jobs. One of the episodes was all about the language of flowers.

"Oh how absolutely beautiful," says Lavender "Hermione we have to work out who they are from"

"This is exciting," says Ginny to a blushing Hermione

"You seem to know a lot about those particular flowers mate," says Ron harshly sitting with his arms folded across his chest and cheeks almost red as his hair

"I didn't send them honestly," says Neville holding up his hands In surrender "I wouldn't send Hermione flowers I mean I would," he says turning to Hermione in a fluster "but I didn't" he adds quickly turning back to Ron

"Is there a problem Ron?" asks Hermione her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Ron" warns Harry and Ginny simultaneously they just know Ron is about to throw himself feet and body first into trouble

 " Are you sure they are not hexed?"

"And why would they be hexed?"

"Well, why would someone give you flowers?

Feeling likes she has just been slapped in the face, Hermione shoots up from her seat collecting her flowers. She can't do this not today, she has absolutely no patience for Ron and his insensitive comments after the emotional night she just had.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, you are a complete ass. Maybe, just maybe " Hermione says her voice raising "someone has actually spotted that I am a girl"

Hermione whose face is stricken storms from the Great Hall before any angry tears can fall but not before hearing Ron say. "What did I say? Maybe it's Cormack he'll go after everyone and anyone"

Leaning against the nearest wall safe from the others students in the great hall, she inhales deeply the floral fragrances clasped in her hands. The emotional pain Ron had just caused slowly seeping away being replaced by hope that perhaps Parkinson sent her the flowers. Her heart drops but after last night why would Parkinson send her flowers, she doesn't want to admit it but maybe Ron is right maybe they are from someone else maybe even a secret message from someone in The Order. She needs to work out the message in the flowers 

With flowers in hand she makes her way to the glasshouse, if anyone would know the meaning of these flowers it would be Professor Sprout their Herbology Professor

The smell of fresh soil and humid moist air hits Hermione the moment she pushes through glass doors to the greenhouse.

Professor Sprout with her flyaway grey hair and patched, frayed hat is humming to herself as she re-pots some plants into a bigger pot. Hermione could have sworn she just saw the leaf of the plant gentle stroke Mrs Sprouts cheek in thanks. 

"Excuse me professor," says Hermione smiling

"Miss Granger, what do I owe this pleasure, ohhhh what do you have there? Someone is lucky in love" says a smiling Professor

"I was hoping you could tell me more about the meaning of the flowers I believe all flowers have meanings?

"Ohhh yes they do, very good Ms Granger very good. Floral arrangements, allowed witches and wizards and even muggles to express feelings which otherwise could not be spoken. It's an old art form that is nearly lost with owls the preferred way to convey secret messages. This is very exciting I have a book here" says Professor Sprout moving her dumpy little body swiftly towards a tower of texts

Hermione can't help but cringe, the texts are covered in dirt and are a little tattered like Professor Sprout's robes. She could never treat her beloved books like that

"Ah, here it is," says Professor Sprout pulling out a thin worn text "let's see what flowers do you have there in your bouquet" peering at the flowers in Hermione's hands she begins flipping through the book

Hermione chews on her bottom lip in nervous anticipation

"The beautiful bright red catchfly" whispers Professor Sprout to herself "meaning I fall victim, what else is there?" She says examining the bouquet "Red camellia means you're a flame in my heart" her smile growing broader, Hermione can't help but smile with her "Hearts Easr you occupy my thoughts.  Tuberose ohh rare and means dangerous pleasure, white violet means let's take a chance.  I don't think I need to read much more It's quite obvious my dear you have an admirer"  says Professor Sprout a broad grin plastered on her chubby face "you know our young Mr Longbottom has a vast knowledge of flowers"

With her cheeks flushing red Hermione replies "thank you, professor, but it's not Neville, I'm not sure who it is "

"Well if you happen to find out and you like them too you may want to send some Jonquil flowers. I just happen to have a little pot out the back"

"What do Jonquil flowers mean?" Asks Hermione

"Affection returned and desire," says Professor Sprout wiggling her eyebrows up and down cheekily  

Hermione's cheeks are burning bright as she leaves the greenhouse with her bouquet of flowers and a bunch of Jonquils.

Her thoughts are charging horses pulling in opposite directions, on the one hand, it could be Parkinson that sent the flowers but it easily not be. Playing with the fragile leaves she ponders does she take the risk of being wrong and rejected if she sends Parkinson a Jonquil, and how is she even going to get it to her without being caught.

Her mind a swirl of thoughts as she heads back to her dorm to drop off the flowers before class but not before slipping a single Jonquil flower in her bag.

The rest of the day continued without incident Ron and she had quasi-made up, although anytime anyone would mention the flowers Ron would walk away. Hermione herself had spent most of the day trying to find the most opportune time to slip Parkinson the Jonquil flower without success.

Heading towards the North Tower for their Divination class her heart skips a beat she can hear Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass talking behind her, this would be her opportunity to get the flower to Parkinson. Her mind races to find a way without being detected.

Stepping ahead of Ron and Harry she pushes open the circular trap door to the North tower letting them both step through. Holding the trap door open she waits for Daphne and Parkinson

"Thanks," says a smiling Daphne "actually I wanted to ask it would be great if we could have regular tutoring sessions"

"We're going to be late" interrupts Parkinson pushing Daphne through the trap door before Hermione can reply.

This is Hermione's chance with Parkinson distracted she slips the delicate white and yellow flower into her bag. Her fingers and toes tingle in anticipation and hope.

The overwhelming smell of incense makes Hermione cough as she enters the classroom, which hardly looks like a place of learning if you ask Hermione with its brightly coloured pouffes and armchairs scattered around the room in place of proper tables and chairs, the ridiculous number of teapots lining the walls and not to mention the abundance of crystals balls of varying sizes about the place.  

Sinking awkwardly into pouffe next to Harry and Ron her legs are shaking nervously as she tries to see steal an inconspicuous look at Parkinson to see if she has found the flower her stomach knotted up.

Suddenly the soft misty ethereal voice of Professor Trewlaney appears from the shadows

‘Welcome,’ she says her hugely magnified bug-like eyes goggling at them. "Sit, my children, sit, NO wait" she says holding up her bangle and ring cladded hand, her innumerable shawls and scarves trailing around her as she begins the shaking her hand "the powers above have spoken to me. I must listen.  The configuration in this room is not conducive to the gift of sight"

"You," she says pointing to Harry and Ron "you have the gift of the beyond, come, come sit over here" she says ushering them to another area of the room leaving Hermione on her own

"Beyond what" mumbles Ron shrugging his shoulders at Harry a confused look on his face

"And you over here," she says to Neville and promptly bumping into a table as she places him on his own in the corner away from any teacups which he often breaks during any Divination lesson

Spinning around the room she stops before Parkinson, her hands gently waving slowly around Parkinson's hair "My dear, your aura is absolutely pulsing. Come with me"

Hermione notices Parkinson roll her eyes behind Professor Trewlaney's as she leads her around the room. Hermione's heart thumps against her chest as the professor and Parkinson make their way towards her "sit here" she says pointing the spot that Harry had sat in moments earlier

The hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stand to attention as Parkinson slips into the pouf next to her. Unable to speak she is peculiarly conscious of the woman sitting next to her and when Parkinson shifts that little bit it's so dangerously close that Hermione is convinced she would be able to hear the beating of her heart.

Her cheeks flush hot her throat so parched she swallows hard. She desperately wants to ask Parkinson is she sent the flowers if she received her reply but she can't find her voice. Her eyes wander anywhere but at Parkinson. Heat radiates down her spine to the tip of her toes.

A feather light stroke on her little pinky finger stills her breath. Casting a sly sideways glance, Parkinson is stone-faced staring ahead at the wispy rant of Professor Trawlaney, lowering her eyes its undeniable, Parkinson is stroking her finger so cautiously, every gentle stroke burning her skin sending a shot of tingles along the base of her spine up towards her neck.  Intense feelings course through her veins. The act is so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of tentative softness that warmth rushes through her. Her chest swells with happiness along with warm moist excitement straight to between her legs.

Her mind momentarily blank on how to react, she sits with her heart beating in her throat for how long she does not know.  

 Scrapping her top teeth over her bottom lip, finally, she slowly moves her hand closer to Parkinson, she catches a small smile of relief cross Parkinson's lips as she breaths out deeply.  She herself is unable to wipe the small smile from her own face as their pinky's interlock for the remainder of the lesson


	11. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay -  
> This is quite a long chapter and lots happens in it.
> 
> I hope you find the wait worth it. There is a section in this chapter that is very similar to the original books by JK - but I hope I've changed it enough not to be plagiarism! 
> 
> Anyhow hope it's ok

Nestled comfortably between Harry and Ron, Hermione struggles to keep the smile off her face as she walks down the corridor from her Divination lesson. An indescribable happiness swells in her chest and flows through her veins. She feels almost giddy. Her little finger still tingles from Parkinson's touch, sending small fireworks of warmth throughout her body. Her thoughts replay the moment that Pansy Parkinson reached out and stroked her finger. All the angst and internal torment she has been feeling dissolving with that one touch.

The surprise of a sudden push against the back of her shoulders has her tumbling forward knocking her from blissful thoughts.

"Come on Hermione," says an excited Lavender Brown as she and Parvati Patil push Harry and Ron aside taking their spots and hooking their arms through Hermione's "Ginny is waiting for us," she says

"Wait. What. Why?" says a confused Hermione as she is being frog-marched down the long corridor.

“What's going on?” says Hermione desperately as she looks pleadingly for help over her shoulder to an equally confused Harry and Ron. She huffs in irritation as they just merely shrug their shoulders staring at her hopeless situation

“Why is Ginny waiting? What's going on? I can walk myself you know” she continues in frustration, her feet barely touching the floor as the march her hastily down the corridor pushing all other students aside.

“You'll see” says a smiling Parvati

It was obvious that both girls are on a mission and would not be distracted nor deterred from their task.

Pushing and shoving Hermione apologises profusely as they bump and crash into other students.

“Lavender stop pushing!" says Hermione

But her pleas fall on deaf ears. Neither girl intending to stop until they have reached their destination.

Finally arriving at the Gryffindor common room, sitting on a plush crimson gold trimmed armchair is Ginny, who is busily scribing and crossing things out on a sheet of parchment. With her is Luna who is reading the latest edition of her father's newspaper, The Quibbler, upside down of all things. Hermione catches herself from shaking her head in disbelief, she has given up long ago trying to understand the intricate and unique mind of Luna Lovegood.

“Ginny what’s going on?” huffs Hermione finally pulling herself free from Lavender and Parvati’s grasp

“Oh Great you’re here”

“Well I didn’t have much choice now did I” says Hermione placing her hands on her hips “what‘s going on?” demands Hermione again

“I’m glad you asked. This” says Ginny holding up the piece of parchment “is a list of names of people who may have sent you the flowers.”

“What?” says Hermione her eyes widening in shocked panic

“Great work Ginny, who have you got?” says Parvati

“Oh this is exciting,” says Lavender clapping her hands happily

Hermione's chest restricts, her hands become clammy she wants to run “there’s no need to do this, really”

“Yes there is”

“No there isn’t” is all Hermione can say in response

“Aren’t you curious?” asks Ginny “unless...”

“Of course I’m curious,” says Hermione quickly, her mind spinning overtime. If she does not play along Ginny and the others will suspect she knows who the sender is and they will not back down until they pry the information from her using any means necessary.

“Who have you written?” she says, the parchment trembling slightly in her hand as she takes it from Ginny

“So what I have done is write down all likely candidates and now we eliminate” explains Ginny proudly “I placed stars next to some I thought could be eliminated”

“Seamus, Dean” Hermione reads out loud from the list “Cormack, seriously, the only type of plant that boy would send is mistletoe wrapped in Devils Snare to make sure you can’t escape from him” scoffs Hermione as she looks down the list of candidates, relieved to see Parkinson’s name omitted from the list, not that she would expect to see it there if she really thought about it.

“Like I said Hermione” says Ginny playfully snatching the list back “now we eliminate. Let’s start. So we are crossing out Cormack” continues Ginny, “I think it’s also fair to cross out Ron, given his reaction and well he’s not exactly romantic like you said once before Hermione, he has the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

The girls all giggle but Hermione is certain she sees a hint of relief cross Lavender’s face.

“I think you can cross out Harry” says Parvati causing Ginny to blush slightly.

Everyone knows Ginny has a crush on Harry and Harry well he has not quite worked it all out yet. Either way, he was more of a brother than a lover to Hermione.

“Next” calls out Lavender

“Dean. Now Dean is a potential he can be romantic but he’s not the type to do it publicly he’s more of a behind closed door kind of guy” says Ginny thoughtfully

“You should know” jokes Parvati earning her a playful pillow to the face from Ginny and another round of giggles.

Hermione feels her muscles relax and laughs with them they are so far off from the truth that she may as well enjoy their attempt at being detectives, she’s thankful that none of the girls had chosen to or were able to cast a tracking charm.

“I don’t think we can cross out Neville,” says Lavender “I know he said he didn’t send them this morning but he does know an awful lot about the meaning of those flowers, so he may have helped someone” shrugs Lavender

“What about Aron Woodbridge that cute Ravenclaw” offers Parvati

“He’s shown absolutely no interest in me,” says Hermione

“And he’s sort of seeing Amina Querishi,” says Lavender proud to be abreast of the school gossip

And so this game of finding the mystery flower sender continues until only a few names remain on the parchment and even then the candidates seem unlikely

“I don’t think we are any wiser,” says Ginny disappointedly

“You did a good job Ginny” reassures Lavender “we just need a few more clues”

“She has been very thorough” comes the dreamy voice of Luna from behind the paper, who up until now has been quiet choosing to focus on the articles in the Quibbler ”although she has not included anyone from the Slytherin House”

“Slytherin” exclaim the other three girls in unison

Hermione’s heartbeat begins to pick up speed as she straightens her back in the armchair, nervous heat permeates throughout her body like a horrible fever.

“As if anyone from Slytherin would be nice enough to send flowers”

“Can you imagine someone like Nott sending Hermione flowers” laughs Ginny

“I wouldn’t mind getting flowers from Zabini,” says Parvati dreamily

“Maybe it was Crabbe,” says Lavender laughing heartedly at her own joke

“Eeeeeeeewwwwww” the girls chime in unison

“Or Goyle” joins in Ginny tears of laughter forming in her almond shaped eyes “imagine him at the florist, I need flowers” she laughs mimicking his deep docile voice and grasping at her side “talk about a Hippogriff in a glass shop”

“Oh Merlín, I’ve got it” exclaims Lavender “it’s Malfoy he’s been trying to mask his true feelings of love for you all this time Hermione”

Hermione laughs uncomfortably, as long as they thinks that someone from Slytherin would send her flowers is a joke she will be fine _they won’t know_ thinks Hermione as she tries to steady her heartbeat

“It was a rather impressive bird that delivered the flowers,” says Luna gently ignoring the girl's comments “the green and silver charm on its claw was rather fetching”

The laughter slowly subsides as Luna’s words begin to sink in

“I suppose it is possible,” says Ginny slowly and thoughtfully

A tight discomfort in Hermione’s chest forms, her breath short. Her hands become clammy this is all too close to the truth. What if they eliminate the boys from Slytherin would they start on the girls? She has the sudden urge to run, escape, hide. Curling her toes in her shoes nervously Hermione’s breath becomes restricted, her heart hammers against her chest, her brain a blur she feels she might actually faint

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Hermione says leaping from the chair and racing to the bathroom ignoring Ginny calling out after her

Her knuckles turn white as she clasps onto the bathroom sink, her already sore neck muscles aching to bones as she attempts to calm and steady her breathing.

Dilated pupils peer back as she stares at her reflection in the mirror her brain feels on fire

“Hermione are you ok?” comes the gentle concerned voice of Ginny.

“Yes, yes of course” replies Hermione quickly not daring to look at Ginny as she still clings to the basin. She had not heard Ginny come in

Hermione holds her breath as Ginny moves towards her and begins rubbing her back in soft soothing circular motions. “You know who it is don’t you?” asks Ginny gently “and you like this person?”

Hermione cannot speak tears threaten to spill down her cheek as she slowly nods her head in the affirmative. She can’t keep this charade up any longer. it’s been consuming her thoughts day and night as if her very sanity is becoming extinct.

“Is it...is it Malfoy?” asks Ginny who is no longer rubbing Hermione’s spine in anticipation of her response

“What? No!” gasps Hermione

“Oh Thank Merlin” Ginny exclaims loudly letting out a deep breath of relief “No one could be worse than Malfoy”

“I wouldn’t be so sure” whispers Hermione as she bows her head focusing her attention on the golden drain hole in the basin. Oh, how she wishes she could shrink down the drain and not face what’s about to occur.

“Hermione who is it you can trust me we’re friends aren’t we?” says Ginny who has now resumed gently rubbing Hermione’s back

The words are stuck in Hermione's throat, she is mentally exhausted. It would be nice to tell someone to release some of the angst that has been building within her. This whole situation has drained the energy out of her as thou her very magical energy has been constantly leaking out of every pore.

“C’mon Hermione it can't be that bad” urges Ginny

Closing her eyes tight, trying to hold back the tears, barely audible Hermione whispers “Parkinson"

“Who?” asks Ginny “Patterson? Who’s Patterson?”

“Not Patterson” whispers Hermione shaking her head “Parkinson” she croaks

Ginny’s hand drops from Hermione’s spine instantaneously, the gesture chilling her to her bones, more than any Scottish mid-winter night could. Slowly she faces Ginny, holding her breath waiting to see what Ginny will do. Her heart thumps harder than ever against her chest, she can hear the blood pounding in her ears, Ginny’s face is unreadable dread and fear deep into her very bones she has made a terrible mistake. Her stomach heavy with regret, she thought she might feel better telling someone she was wrong. Preparing herself for the worst, Hermione jumps as a raucous laugh erupts from Ginny.

Barely able to contain herself “Hermione that’s hilarious,” she says slapping Hermione on the back, her eyes glistening with tears

It’s only when Hermione does not laugh with her that Ginny realises that this is true

“Hermione. You’re serious, aren’t you? Parkinson” Ginny says slowly the smile fading from her lips fast “as in as in Pansy Parkinson, Slytherin Parkinson”

Words caught in her throat Hermione can merely nod in agreeance, her eyes searching for something positive in Ginny’s features.

“But she’s so mean and nasty”

“She can be nice” offers Hermione meekly

Hermione gasps as Ginny pulls back from her so quickly and forcefully she barely has time to react. She stares in disbelief at something she would never have expected. The point of her dear friend's wand is aimed directly at her.

“Hermione are you in there?” Ginny says with a tremble in her voice “You can fight it. You’re strong Hermione. You can fight it” fear lacing each word

It takes a moment for the shock to settle before she realises what Ginny must be thinking “Oh Ginny I’m not under the Imperius Curse” says Hermione gently

Ginny of all people knows what it feels like to be controlled by another. Ginny’s traumatic experience of being possessed when she was in first year still very fresh in her mind.

“Only someone under Imperius Curse would say that the real Hermione would tell me what charm to cast to find out”

“Ginny, there isn’t one single spell and it’s very very difficult to determine if someone under the Imperious Curse” advises Hermione softly “That’s why so many Death Eaters were able to deceive the ministry after the last war, plus I already ruled that out weeks ago. Ginny please this has been really hard for me”

Moments of silence pass, the only sound is the harsh breathing of both Ginny and Hermione bouncing off the walls. Hermione begins to fear that Ginny will hex her or worse she will need to grab her own wand in defence.

“How?” asks Ginny slowly lowering her wand concluding that Hermione is telling the truth “Are you sure it’s her who sent the flowers”

“Yes, I am now” Hermione breaths out in relief “I mean I wasn’t sure after she whacked me on the head...”

“Wait. She hit you and you think she sent flowers because....”

“Well she says it was more of a bop on the head, but then she held my finger and I still have her red quill, which she hasn’t asked for back. It’s such a lovely quill, it writes beautifully and...” she babbles stopping only at the look of confusion and shock on Ginny’s face

Hermione shifts uncomfortably from under Ginny’s open mouth gaze

“Hang on. She’s a girl!” Exclaims Ginny in wide-eyed disbelief “when did you start liking witches”

“I didn’t know I did, I’m still not sure I do but I know I liked our kiss”

WHAT! Ginny practically yells “You kissed? When?

“Well. Yes” says Hermione blushing “I blamed it on the fumes at and the werewolf for a while but every time I see her I feel ....” she trails off uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

“Hermione stop your confusing me, when did you kiss and what’s that got to do with a werewolf or a red quill. Start from the beginning and don’t miss anything out” demands Ginny

To her credit, Ginny does not interrupt but rather chooses to stare piercingly at Hermione absorbing every word as she relays the story of that evening in Filch’s cleaning room to now.

“I’m still not sure why she hit me in the head, although it was rather rude of me to assume she hadn’t completed her assignment” conclude Hermione

Nerves begin to flutter in her belly as Ginny continues to stare at her in silence. She couldn’t bear to lose a dear friend like Ginny over this. It feels like an eternity before Hinny speaks

“Ginny please say something”

“So” Ginny begins slowly “the fear of death is the reason you kissed in the first place?” she asks

“Yes” answers Hermione her insides squirming with nerves like they never have before. She can tell Ginny is mulling over all the information she has been given for what seems like an eternity “Ginny please....”

“I think I’m offended”

“What?” says Hermione s taken aback. Of all the things she expected Ginny to say that was not one of them

“Ministry of Magic facing Death Eaters, I don’t recall you trying to kiss me at all?”

“What’s Parkinson got that I haven’t got?”

Words are lost with Hermione unable to answer. She doesn’t want to offend Ginny she just had not thought if her that way, in fact, she hadn’t felt this way about another girl or with anyone if she's honest with herself. It’s not until she sees the small curve of a smile on edge of Ginny’s lips that she knows she’s joking and more importantly does not hate her

“Oh Ginny” Hermione breaths out in relief as she lunges at her friend and gives her a tight hug. Small tears of relief and joy spill from her eyes, it feels so good to have finally told someone, to be able to talk about these feelings.

“Hands above the waist Granger” jokes Ginny earning her a swot on the arm

“But you’re still not sure if you like girls or completely sure about Parkinson right?”

Hermione merely nods.

“Well, there’s one way to find out? You need to snog her again without the fumes or werewolves or interruptions of any sort” determines Ginny

Hermione can feel her cheeks blushing all the way from her neck up “and how do you suppose I do that? I can hardly walk up to her in the Great Hall can I?”

“Oh gee, if only there was a place, like a room perhaps that I don’t know appeared when you needed it and no one could get in unless you wanted them too. If only it could give you everything you need like for the perfect setting” mocks Ginny tapping her chin “maybe give you everything you oh I don’t know required”

Ginny is, of course, referring to Hogwarts secret room, The Room of Requirement. Hermione and Ginny along with many other students spent many hours the year previous in this room learning the practical application of defence against dark magic. That room was their sanctuary against the unfairly appointed Headmistress Dolores Umbridge.

Clenching her fist she fights the back anger and annoyance that instantly begin simmering to the surface at the memory of the Ministry’s attempt to downplay the return of Voldemort and the hiring of that falsely sweet poisoned honey personality vile woman Dolores Umbridge, to keep an eye on Professor Dumbledore.

“But the Room of Requirement only appears when a person is in great need of it. I don’t think this type of need warrants its appearance surely” says Hermione

“It can’t hurt to try” shrugs, Ginny

“But how do I let her know to meet me” for once Hermione does not have the answers, something she is not used too

“Leave that to me. Now let’s get out of here before the others start to wonder what’s going on”

“Ginny,” says Hermione stopping her from leaving the bathroom “Thank you”. She can’t begin to explain the gratitude she is feeling

“Just be careful Hermione” replies Ginny seriously wearing a look of worry that has an uncanny resemblance to a feature Mrs. Weasley wears herself every time she hugs them goodbye.

Just be careful. They may only be three words but the weight in the meaning behind them is undeniable. Just be careful, we all know what’s coming, just be careful we don’t know what Parkinson is like, just be careful I love you and I don’t want to see you hurt, Just be careful this could jeopardise everything, just be careful this could be a trap. Just be careful this isn’t just about you. Hermione can only nod in response.

Worrying thoughts of what to tell the others quickly disappear as Hermione spies Ron sitting alone on the couch in front of the fire. A look of anticipation on his face obviously waiting for Hermione.

“Where’s Harry?” she asks

“Dumbledore wanted to see him, he found us on the way back to the common room from Divination. He said he had something to tell Harry” says Ron

The look on Ron's face suggests he is thinking exactly what Hermione herself is thinking. Dumbledore has some information on the Horcruxes

“Ginny...” Hermione begins

“I’ll let the others know you’re busy with Harry,” says Ginny knowingly before Hermione can complete her sentence.

She may not be privy to the in-depth details of each of their adventures but Ginny knows when there are more important things at hand than talking about boys or in this case girls.

“I’ll start reading the book now” whispers Hermione

“Harry said not to wait up,” says Ron as he puts his feet up on the couch and pulling out at least four Quidditch magazines from beside him “might as well get comfortable, could be a long night”

Neither friend having any intention going to bed and not staying up and waiting for Harry.

Having discretely retrieved the book from her dorm, Hermione makes herself comfortable on the sofa near Ron, ensuring the cover and content are hidden from any passerby’s.

Slowly by slowly the number of students dwindle down until it is just Ron and Hermione and the soft crackle of the fire for company.

The book on Hermione’s lap is old and heavy, unlike other aged books the leather is not soft, the pages sharp as if they themselves want to cut you, hungry for your very blood to seep into its pages.

Unease filters through her as her eyes flit across the pages as she tries picking out anything of importance relating to Horcruxes from the bundle of sentences that lay on the pages. The content dark is disturbing, more disturbing than anything she has ever encountered. She wants to slam the book shut, uncharacteristically throw it into the fire, no one should have information like this at hand. Her soul rebels refusing to digest another but still, she pushes herself to continue reading, this is for Harry, this will help them defeat Voldemort.

“Harry,” says a surprised Ron

It’s late, but it’s still earlier than either expected Harry back. A look of anger and disbelief on his face.

“What happened,” says Hermione relieved to be shutting the words of the book even it is for just a moment.

Looking around to make sure no one is about Harry says

“Dumbledore thinks he knows what two of the Horcruxe items might be and where they are. He’s going to go get them tonight”

“That’s brilliant mate,” says an enthusiastic Ron

“What else Harry?” says Hermione acutely aware that the look on Harry’s face suggests there is more to this story and he does not like it.

“He’s taking Snape with him to help,” says Harry in a tone that is equally angry and disgusted

“What!” Both Ron and Hermione exclaim in unison

“Is he mental?” says Ron

“I know,” says Harry angrily “I can’t believe he trusts Snape with information like this. He’ll just go tell Voldemort”

Hermione can feel the energy of Harry’s anger radiating off his skin. It always scares her a little when Harry gets angry, he’s brash and reckless and lashes out.

“He may not have told him anything. Dumbledore must have a reason to take Snape” says Hermione calmly trying to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand.

They have been having this conversation regarding Snape's loyalty to Dumbledore for years. Yes Snape was not a fair teacher, and yes he favoured Slytherin and picked on Gryffindors especially Harry, but there has been nothing to suggest he still supports Voldemort. In fact every time they have suspected him of wrongdoing or of being a Death Eater they have been wrong.

“He can’t trust him”

“Ron, please,” says Hermione tiredly. ‘How many times have we suspected Snape, and when have we ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.’

‘But he used to be a Death Eater,’ say Ron ‘And we’ve never seen proof that he really has swapped sides.’

‘Dumbledore trusts him,’ Hermione repeats. ‘And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone. This is a good thing. If Dumbledore and Snape” she continues sure to emphasis Snape's name “know where two of these horrible things are and can destroy them that’s good. It’ll make Voldemort weaker. Now I’m going to try and finish this horribly awful and disgusting book.”

Hermione ill words regarding a book stun the boys into silence.

“Hermione...”

“Harry," she says softly "you have to trust Dumbledore knows what he’s doing. I’ve read some of this book. It’s awful full of evil magic. We need all the help we can get” she pleads

Harry nods slowly. Hermione can tell she has not convinced him but instead, he realises there is nothing he can do about it tonight.

“I’m going upstairs to read more. I’ll see both in the morning.” And with that final statement, Hermione turns and made her way to her dorm.

Hermione dresses slowly after a restless night’s sleep. Dark images plagued her dreams, she knows it’s because she read that book well into the night. Trying her best to push the spells and images out of her mind she makes her way down the stairs to the common room to find Ginny waiting for her.

“I’ve sent the boys off the breakfast so we can walk together”

There’s a mischievous look in Ginny’s eye that looks remarkably like the twinkle that Fred and George have when they are up to their usual prankster ways.

The walk to the Great Hall was without incident. It was only when they arrived near the monumental doors of the Great Hall entrance that Hermione feels Ginny’s attitude shift a little

“Thanks so much for helping me with that potions assignment the other night,” says Ginny sliding her arm into Hermione’s as they entered the hall.

It wasn’t unusual for the girls to hug and touch but Hermione couldn’t help but feel there was something more to this but she couldn’t quite place it.

The thought quickly escapes her as the first thing she notices walking into the Great Hall for breakfast is the empty seat in the middle of the table. The seat reserved for Professor Dumbledore. She barely registers Ginny leading her to the Gryffindor table as her eyes scan down the large wooden table to see that Professor Snape is also missing.

A twinge of worry waves through her. Destroying a Horcrux is difficult. She had just read the night before that the only way to destroy one is to magically destroy it beyond repair. She still needed to determine the definition of magically destroy and what items would constitute complete destruction.

Surely Dumbledore and Snape outstanding wizards in their own right would know this and be prepared? She wonders in hope

“Dumbledores not back yet” she whispers to Harry as she sits beside him.

Harry simply shakes his head in reply. The same worried look etched on his face.

“I’m sure they will be back soon,” she says in a feeble attempt to reassure Harry and herself

“Hermione, try this it’s amazing,” says Ginny holding up a small forkful of pancakes with a piece of strawberry delicately topped with cream on top.

“I can get my own Ginny”

“Just try it,” says Ginny slightly forcefully but still smiling sweetly as she moves the fork towards Hermione’s lips leaving her no option but to take the food in her mouth.

Hermione savours the sweet flavours. It was delicious. Normally Hermione opts for traditional healthier options at breakfast to sustain her well through to lunch.

“See wasn’t so hard, was it? Delicious isn’t it” says Ginny moving closer to Hermione giving her a quick friendly nudge as she leans into her. Hermione gives Ginny an odd look, she’s being awfully affectionate more affectionate than usual.

“Do you think he’s alright?” asks Harry softly interrupting Hermione’s thoughts

“I hope so,” says Hermione stirring her porridge slowly

Breakfast rolls into lunch and still no sign of Dumbledore or Snape. Speculation is rife between the three friends regarding the whereabouts of the two professors. Ron was adamant that Snape had delivered Dumbledore directly to Voldemort like a sacrificial lamb.

By the time dinner arrives, Hermione, Ron and Harry practically race to the Great Hall to see if Dumbledore has returned.

There's a flurry of whispers and an unusual air of worry permeating throughout the Great Hall and Hermione can see why. Sitting at the professor's table is the newly appointed Minister of a Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. His keen yellowish eyes instantly focussing on Harry as they enter the Great Hall and make their way towards the Gryffindor table

“What the hell is he doing here,” asks Ron “Where's Dumbledore?”

“Snape’s back,” says Harry his eyes permeating an edge of distrust and anger as he stares at the Professor. Snape's face looks shallower and paler than Hermione ever remembers seeing.

Hermione is silent, unease paces through her as she observes Professor McGonagall Her usually stern face is etched with worry, her eyes glistening and cheeks slightly pink as if she is trying to hold back tears.

The whispers that hiss like fire across the hall cease immediately as the Minister of Magic rises from his seat ready to address the room.

Hermione could see why the community preferred Rufus Scrimgeour as the Minister of Magic rather than his bumbling predecessor Cornelius Fudge. Unlike Fudge, Scrimgeour had been head aura fighting dark wizards for most of his life, he has an immediate aura of toughness and shrewdness with lion-like looks which is exactly what the community wanted in these turbulent times.

“Good evening,” says Scrimgeour in a deep voice instantly commanding respect and attention “due to unforeseen circumstance Professor Dumbledore will be temporarily unable to perform his duties as headmaster of Hogwarts”

Gasps from every student bounce off the walls but before the whispers can begin Scrimgeour continues, his deep authoritative voice hushing the students into silence

“Rest assured Hogwarts will remain strong under the leadership of Professor McGonagall until further notice that is until Professor Dumbledore is able to return to his duties. Thank you” he finishes promptly sitting down signifying there would be no discussion or questions on the matter

The frantic whispers violently sweep around the Great Hall.

“What do you think has happened to Dumbledore,” says Harry whipping his head around quickly to face Hermione

“I don’t know Harry,” says Hermione trying to keep her voice level “destroying a you know what is not easy, perhaps he exerted himself too much and is resting for a day or two?”

“I bet you it’s because of Snape,” says Ron accusingly

Before Hermione can reply she feels a small jab at her ribs from Ginny

“8pm tonight, Room of Requirement” whispers Ginny. Any bounce or excitement in her voice from earlier has disappeared with the sudden news of the Professor Dumbledore’s situation.

“What?” asks Hermione in shock “How did you...How can I after this announcement?” says Hermione still trying to process the news she has just received. She doesn’t have time to go flaunting around.

“If not now, when? Who knows what’s coming next. There may not be another chance” shrugs Ginny half-heartedly. Her voice sounding deflated

“Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, would you kindly join me in my...Professor Dumbledore’s office after dinner?”

Turning quickly in her chair, Hermione is surprised to see Professor McGonagall standing before them, her usual stern features blemished with worry.

“What’s happen to Professor Dumbledore,” asks Harry instantly

“Now is not the time Mr. Potter” Professor McGonagall replies matter of factly “Please see me in the headmaster's office after dinner“ she says before turning back towards the main table

“What do you reckon she’ll say,” asks Ron

“One way to find out”

Ron, Harry and Hermione rush towards Professor Dumbledore’s office after dinner desperate for answers.

“Lemon drop,” says Harry to the Gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's office. The moment the word pass Harry’s lips the large stone statue slides to one side allowing the three entry.

Hermione’s cheeks burn at the memory of the last time she climbed the cool narrow stone staircase to the headmaster's office. It was the night Parkinson and she had kissed and now almost fitting that she would be meeting Parkinson later this evening. The excitable nerves tingling in the pit of her belly and below are quickly replaced by curiosity as she hears the intense murmur of voices from the headmaster.

Hermione is taken aback at the sight before her as they push through the door into the headmaster's office.

McGonagall sitting in what was always Professor Dumbledore’s seat, standing to her left is Professor Snape, his usually sharp black beady eyes seem dull and craving for sleep. Sitting in the winged armchair is the Minister, as per usual the portraits of past Headmasters asleep in their frames

“Ah Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley please take a seat” says Professor McGonagall inviting them in

“Where’s Professor Dumbledore” demands Harry stepping into the office forcefully

Hermione cringes, her sore shoulder muscles tensing even more than before as the Professor shifts in her seat part uncomfortable part annoyed at Harry’s brash outburst, they are after all standing before not only two of their professors but the Minister of Magic himself. Chewing on her bottom lip, that constantly reappearing sense of worry shimmies through Hermione.

“Thank you for coming, do take a seat,” says Scrimgeour calmly. Hermione admires he straightforward demeanour. As a seasoned political and veteran aura, he is accustomed to confrontation and adversity. “There has been an accident....”

“What accident?”

“If you let him finish Potter, you may find out,” says Snape coldly

“Professor Dumbledore was, well, it is still to be determined exactly what Professor Dumbledore was doing” continues Scrimgeour, his piercing yellow eyes boring into them as if hoping to find the answer before flitting towards Snape “He encountered some very dark magic whilst out with Professor Snape. A curse so powerful it would consume you and take the very breath from your life in moments”

Hermione gasps as her hands fly to her open mouth in disbelief. She can feel the tears beginning to swell in her eyes as her chest restricts in grief

“Is Dumbledore, is Dumbledore....” she whispers hoarsely through her fingers

“Dead?” says Harry staring stone-faced at the Minister.

The word sends shivers down Hermione’s spine. Reaching for Harry’s hand, Hermione holds her breath in anticipation of the response. Gripping his hand tight, her feelings turn to concern, Harry is not responding in the manner she thought he would. His face is unreadable. She can only imagine what emotions are festering and churning inside of him ready to erupt like lava at any moment.

“No” says Scrimgeour

Hermione’s shoulders drop in relief as she lets out a deep breath

 “He is however on statis”

“Statis, What the hell is statis?” pipes in Ron

Unable to stop herself Hermione feels compelled to answer the question

“It means he’s in a sort of a coma” informs Hermione “ But more than a deep sleep, almost frozen in time. He’s unconscious and cannot respond to sounds, or any sort of activity going on around him.

“You know why, I’m sure?’ says Scrimgeour

“To stop the spread of the curse”

“Correct,” says Scrimgeour “it gives us time to determine what the curse is and how, if possible, it is to reverse it”

Silence fills the room. Hermione’s head is in a spin, her heart begins to beat faster as she tries to comprehend what she has been told. _Dumbledore is not dead but he may as well be_ thinks Hermione _he can’t help us anymore_.

“Where is he now?” asks Harry

“In a highly secure section of St Mungo's. There’s no access to Professor Dumbledore other than the specialists assigned to him before you ask. “

Before Harry can argue he continues

“Do you know what Professor Dumbledore may have been doing?” asks Scrimgeour shifting his chair a little closer to them

“No idea,” says Harry “why not ask him?” he says pushing his chin towards Professor Snape vexatiously

“Professor Snape has been as helpful as...”

“This is your fault” Harry shouts angrily. towards Professor Snape, cutting off the Minister “You did this, what did you do to him?”

“Mr. Potter” warns Professor McGonagall

“Can’t you all see, he’s on Voldemort’s side he’s helping him.”

“Potter”

“How come he isn’t injured if the curse was so powerful? He cursed Dumbledore, he would know how to do it” accuses Harry “Why are you all so blind. Tell me what you did”

“I do not answer to you Potter” replies Snape sharply his black eyes full of hate

“Perhaps you should explain it one more time Professor” says Scrimgeour

It is a tactic Hermione has seen in many times in detective shows. Get the accused or important witness you feel is hiding something to repeat their story over and over and see if any of the details of their story changes.

“Severus please” pleads Professor McGonagall

“As I have told the Minister” begins Professor Snape in a level voice, “Professor Dumbledore asked me to accompany him. He apparated us to what can only be described as a derelict home, to what ends I do not know. I was to wait outside whilst he entered. I am unaware of what transpired inside. A commotion occurred I entered and found Professor Dumbledore being consumed by a curse. I did what I could do to stop the spread.

“LIAR” shouts Harry

Hermione jumps in her seat as Harry leaps to his feet, his piercing green eyes full of fury. She shivers at the sheer ferocity in Harry’s tone

“Mr. Potter,” says Professor McGonagall raising her voice “Sit down immediately,” she says sternly. The shock of their head of house raising her voice has Harry slowly returning to fit seat “Had it not been for Professor Snape’s quick thinking and skill, I dread to think what may have occurred. Professor Dumbledore may well be, may have...” her voice trails off unable to complete the sentence

“Not survived” offers Scrimgeour

“What was the curse? What happened after that” asks Harry still panting in anger

“That is what we trying to determine. Amongst other things”

“Other things?” asks Hermione

“Professor Dumbledore has a final will and testament that’s why we asked to see you”

“But you said he wasn’t dead” questions Hermione

“That is correct, however on statis can be deemed to fall into the same category, and given the current situation”

“What’s that got to do with us?” asks Ron

"He left some items to you three, should an untimely incident occur” says Scrimgeour as he pulls a neatly folded parchment from his pocket. Hermione’s insides contract with sudden nerves. I believe perhaps these items may shed some light on what Professor Dumbledore may have been trying to achieve. I’ll begin"

"To Harry James Potter,” he reads,“I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.”

As Scrimgeour pulls out the tiny golden ball, Hermione shifts in her seat nervously.

‘Why do you think Dumbledore would leave you this Snitch?’ asked Scrimgeour.

‘No idea,’ says Harry.

‘A mere symbolic keepsake?’

 ‘What else could it be?’ says Harry

‘I’m asking the questions,’ says Scrimgeour

Hermione shifts in her seat stretching her back to full height. She does not like the accusatory tone the Minister of Magic is using towards Harry

“What are you suggesting Minister?” asks Hermione

A snitch could be a very good hiding place for a small object. If your intelligence and knowledge is as good as I have heard, you would know why I assume?’

‘Because Snitches have flesh memories,’ replies Hermione nodding her head

‘What?’ she hears Harry and Ron say in unison

‘Meaning?” says Scrimgeour encouraging Hermione to continue, curious to actually test her intelligence. Hermione feels compelled to answer and prove to him how much she really does know

‘A snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released even the maker wears gloves. It is enchanted to identify the first human to lay hands upon it.” she says

“So this Snitch” Scrimgeour says holding up the tiny golden ball, ‘will remember your touch, Mr. Potter. Dumbledore is, we would all agree, an exceptionally skilled wizard so It stands to reason that Dumbledore, may have enchanted this Snitch so that it will open only for you.”

Hermione’s heart beats furiously against her chest. If Dumbledore has left a secret message for Harry in the Snitch there is no way it will not open in front of the Minister of Magic when Harry takes the Snitch.

Hermione watches with baited breath as the Minister holds the Snitch towards Harry. She notices Harry’s hand hesitate but the eager and encouraging yellow eyes of the Minister force him to continue. Anxiously clenching her fists she watches as Harry takes the Snitch in his hand. Nothing. The Snitch does not open. She cannot help but breathe a sigh of relief despite the Minister of Magic’s obvious annoyance.

“So that’s it then?” asks Hermione

Not quite,’ said Scrimgeour, who looked annoyed now. ‘Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Potter.’

‘What is it?’ asks Harry

Not bothering to read from the parchment he says ‘The sword of Godric Gryffindor,’ he said.

Hermione stiffens in her seat. It would not be possible for Dumbledore to leave such an important piece of magical history to one person, and he would know that he must be trying to tell Harry something thinks Hermione.

‘Unfortunately,’ says Scrimgeour, ‘that sword was not Dumbledore’s to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artefact”

“It did choose Harry, it came to him out of the Sorting Hat” says Hermione she had to try

“Historical sources state clearly, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor,’ says Scrimgeour. ‘That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr. Potter, despite what Dumbledore may have decided.’

“You are right Minister, the sword can not belong to one person only. It belongs at Hogwarts” says Professor McGonagall

Hermione and Harry both open their mouth to argue the point but are promptly quietened. When Professor McGonagall agrees with the Minister

“To Ronald Bilius Weasley”, he continues “I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.”

“What does it do?” asks Ron reaching for the small silver lighter like object

“It removes light sources from its immediate surroundings, as well as restoring them” answers Hermione

"And To Miss Hermione Jean Granger”, continues Scrimgeour excited nerves shoot through her in wonder of what Dumbledore would leave her

“I leave my personal copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive. I also leave a bag of pear drops to enjoy with it, may she enjoy this new flavour”

Hermione initial excitement fades as she takes the book from the Minister. It looks like a children’s book. Of all the magical and rare books Dumbledore has why would he give her a child’s book? She wonders and lollies why on earth would he leave her lollies

“Is that it?” asks Harry clutching the Snitch in his hand

“It is”

“May we be excused?” asks Harry

Professor McGonagall nods at the three of them a concerned look on her face.

“Potter” calls out Professor McGonagall as they turn to leave

“Remember, should you need, this office is always open to you at all times”

The moment the last of them steps down the staircase from Dumbledore’s office into hallway Harry spins around to both Ron and Hermione “I have to finish what he started. I have to find the Horcruxes and destroy them. I have to go now”

“Harry, firstly there is no I. It is a we. That was decided long ago don’t even try to argue ” says Hermione firmly “Secondly we don’t even know where to start, where would we go? We don’t even know what we even looking for, we need more research. Dumbledore is an amazing wizard and look what the Horcruxe has done to him”

“I have to do something Hermione. I have to try” says Harry throwing his hands up in angry frustration and smacking them against his thigh. “I just can’t...” Harry stops, a perplexed look on his face as he reaches into his pocket

“Harry, what is it? What’s happened?” says Hermione worryingly

Hermione gasps as Harry pulls out of his pocket, a locket made of heavy gold and a glittering green stone on the front. Holding it out in front of him Ron, Hermione and Harry just stare at it blankly.

“When did you buy that?” asks Ron

“I didn’t. I just felt it in my pocket now” says Harry confused

“So it just appeared now?” says Hermione

Harry nods.

“It looks really old” says Ron

Hermione’s mind is running overtime why did this locket appear, who put it there and what does it mean?

“Harry check your other pockets in case there is more”

Hermione watches in anticipation as Harry pulls from another pocket an ornate ring. “It’s missing the stone” he says

Sure enough, lying in the palm of Harry’s hand is an antique gold ring with a big hole in the centre where a stone would normally be.

“What in bloody Merlin’s pants does this all mean?” says Ron

“Harry is there anything else in your pockets. A parchment with some sort explanation?”

Hermione’s eyes widen in interest. From inside his pocket, Harry pulls a small handful of vials, each filled with a silvery cloud like liquid.

“I’ve seen this before. They are someone’s memories” says Harry “I need the Pensieve in his office to see them.”

“Do you think McGonagall did it, she said remember you could go in there anytime.” says Ron “Should we ask her?”

“We don’t know for sure,” says Hermione “For all we know Dumbledore or someone could have enchanted the items to appear when Harry entered the office. It’s probably safer not to. No. We need to wait for the office to be empty and then go in” says Hermione

“Let’s hide around the corner” says Harry in agreeance

Harry, Hermione and Ron wait in silence staring nervously at the Gargoyle statue.  

“What time is it? It must be close to seven. They’ve been in there forever” whines Ron

Hermione breaths in sharply at the realisation that she is suppose to be meeting Parkinson shortly. Her emotions in a whirlpool swishing and swirling about within her, she desperately wants to see Parkinson this evening to explore these feelings. Her stomach heavy with disappointment there is no way she would leave Harry alone to contend with all that is happening and about to happen.

“They’re leaving” whispers Harry

So deep in thought, Hermione has not noticed the Minister and two professors exit the Headmasters Office.

“Quick Harry. Go up there now we’ll wait for you here” says Hermione

“You go too Hermione” suggests Ron “Two heads will be better than one. It might help work things out quicker. No offense mate. I’ll keep watch.”

Butterflies flutter nervously deep in her belly as they quietly climb the stairs into the Headmasters Office. The gentle snoring from the portraits of past headmasters fills the room as they tiptoe past a plethora of tiny smoke emitting silver instruments and low glowing tidbits.

“The Pensieve is over there” whispers Harry

Located in the corner of the office is the Pensieve, a shallow basin with a variety of runes carved delicately around the edge. Nerves are replaced by excitement as Hermione spies the silvery light. She has always wanted to experience a Pensieve. She has been completely fascinated by the magical mechanics of it since Harry first told her about his experience a few years ago.

Hermione stood transfixed on the wispy movement of the silvery light in the basin. It was nothing like Hermione had ever seen, small ripples gently brush the surface before smoothing out.

“Which one do you think we should put in first?” says Harry holding out the vials

 “I think they are numbered Harry” Hermione had not noticed before but etched on the cork ever so small were numbers.

Casting a nervous look at Hermione, Harry tips the memory from the first vial into the before pulling out his wand and stirring the contents with the tip.

“Just bend closer and put your head near the basin” says Harry

Following Harry’s instructions, Hermione leans forward, the once cloudy substance had become transparent like a window as they land in a dark marsh.

“Welcome”

 Hermione jumps and looks around quickly to Harry who looks just as confused and surprised as she is. The voice is that of Professor Dumbledore. “I had intended to bring you on this journey, but alas”

“This didn’t happen last time,” says Harry to Hermione “where are you?” calls out Harry

“You will now embark through the murky marshes of memory. It is through these memories we will achieve a better understanding of the motives of Voldemort and may find some answers to the questions we seek including his weakness. There will be guesswork, but no doubt between the three of us I’m sure we will achieve something. Shall we begin?”

“Three of us?” says Harry “How did he know I wouldn’t be alone?”

“How does Dumbledore know half the things he does” replies Hermione she can almost see his crystal blue eyes twinkling with mischievous delight

“Ready?” asks Harry still looking around for Dumbledore to appear

Hermione and Harry roll through memory after memory of the life of Voldemort with narration and probing questions from Dumbledore. They soon discover when Dumbledore does not reply to any of their questions that he has somehow only recorded his voice over into the memories to aid them where necessary.

They had watched with intense interest the variety of memories regarding Lord Voldemort at various junctures of his life. From when he found out he was a wizard to his time at Hogwarts and as an employee at Borgin and Burke, an antique shop located in the seedy Knockturn Alley.

Their most import discovery being Voldemort’s fetish for artefacts along with the obsession with his heritage.

They had discovered that Voldemort's mother, Merope Gaunt, had used a love potion to seduce his muggle Father, Tom Riddle Snr, who subsequently left her when she stopped providing the bewitching potion.

Hermione couldn’t help but have some sympathy for Merope, as she watched the harsh and abusive treatment the woman had endured in her life from her brother and father.

Hermione had watched in disgust and horror in the discovery that Voldemort had killed so many people before he even turned 17. He had murdered his father and grandparents out of sheer rage for abandoning him whilst cleverly implicating his uncle for the murders and stealing his ring from his hand. He had murdered Hepzibah Smith, a collector of rare historical artifacts simply because he wanted for himself two of her prized possessions Helga Hufflepuff's cup and the locket in Harry's pocket, the locket of Salazar Slytherin. The very locket that was stolen by Merope Gaunt, who was so desperate for money whilst pregnant with Voldemort sold it to Caractacus Burke for merely ten Galleons, a price far below what the priceless artefact was truly worth.

Hermione could not help but feel frustration and anger throughout the memory of Hepizah foolishly gloating and showcasing the two prized possessions to Voldemort. She resisted the urge to yell and scream as you do in horror movies to the next would be victim foolishly going into a room to investigate when they hear a noise.

Hermione and Harry watch as Hepzibah retells the story of how she had bought the locket from Mr. Burke who had purchased it from “ragged-looking woman who seemed to have stolen it but had no idea of its true value". A shiver races down Hermione’s spine as she watches Voldemort’s eyes flash red with anger and hatred when he realised that this ragged woman was his mother and the locket rightfully belongs to him.

They explore memory after memory. Dumbledore explains to them that Voldemort would have made Horcruxes out of items with a powerful magical history and worthy of the honour.

The diary, the ring and the locket, items owned by the founders of Hogwarts would be very enticing to Voldemort he said. He was willing to bet a year’s supply of Bertie Bott’s every flavour bean that Helga Hufflepuff's Cup and possibly something of Rowena Ravenclaw was also made into Horcruxes. The only remaining artefact from Godric Gryffindor was his sword which has been safely stored in the headmaster's office, so unlike that had been made into a Horcrux.

Dumbledore also suggested that Nagini, Voldemort snake was made into a Horcrux, and was one Horcrux short of his desired number 7 before entering Harry's parents' house with the intention of killing Harry, stopping the prophecy, and using the death of Harry to make his last Horcrux.

Hermione’s body aches, her neck muscles are tense and hard that they feel that they may crack like dry concrete if she stretches. She is physically and mentally exhausted as they exit the Pensieve. There was so much information to absorb and understand but despite all the information it still felt like they still had some pieces of the puzzles missing. Dumbledore had assumed Helga Hufflepuff Cup was a Horcrux, there was no guarantee it was, let alone knowing where it could be, and what possibly could be the Ravenclaw item was still unknown.

Delving into the memories of Voldemort had sickened her to stomach, no one should have to see what they had. Lunging at Harry she hugs him tightly.

“Oh Harry, I’m so sorry. Are these the types of visions you see when you see Voldemort’s thoughts” says Hermione feeling such empathy for Harry she just wants to cry

“It’s ok Hermione. It’s not that bad”

Hermione knows he’s just saying it to reassure her which just makes her hug him tighter. Taking a deep breath she knows she has to pull herself together and be strong for Harry and help him all she can.

“Well at least three Horcruxes, including the diary have been destroyed” says Hermione pulling away from Harry. The look on his face worrying her “What is it Harry?”

“I don’t think it’s same one” he says holding the locket in his hand and rubbing his thumb along the edges

Taking a closer look at the locket Hermione’s heart drops in disappointment. The locket in Harry’s hand did not seem to be as big as the locket they saw in the Pensieve, nor was there the ornate glittering serpentine S, the mark of Slytherin, inlaid the green stones

Opening the locket carefully “there’s a note” says Harry

Sure enough in place of where a photo would be was a neatly folded parchment.

“What does it say?” asks Hermione leaning into Harry to read over his shoulder

                                    “To the Dark Lord,

                                    I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B”

 “I don’t remember seeing those initials in any books I’ve read,” says Hermione confused “But on the bright side we have somewhere to start. We need to find out who R.A.B is that will help us find the real locket. Let's go fill in Ron, and get out of here before the Professor comes back”

Hermione tugs at Harry’s arm who is still staring intently at the aged parchment and rolling the locket in his fingers, deep in thought.

Quietly they sneak through the headmaster's office and down the stone staircases both concentrating deeply on all what they had just seen.

“Bloody hell about time,” says Ron “I only just got rid of Ginny. She’s not happy with you” says Ron pointing a finger at Hermione “she says you better not be late. She wouldn’t tell me what about, secret girls business she said. Bloody mental the lot of you sometimes”

Hermione’s cheeks flush red with heat, she knows Ginny is referring to her meeting up with Parkinson.

Her thoughts and emotions pulling against each other like a vicious game of tug of war. She has been aching to see Parkinson alone, thoughts and desires of this moment consuming her very being but she has to help Harry, there are bigger things at stake than her feelings.

 An intense bout of anxious nerves course through her, maybe she could see Parkinson for 10 minutes to talk to her and then go research. Who knows when she might get another chance? Yes. That was fair, 10 minutes and then she would go research.

Wh.. wh.. what time is it now? she asks nervously

“Dunno about 8 I reckon. Anyhow, tell me what happened? What were the memories?”

“Harry will fill you in,” says Hermione nervously “I’m going to the library,” she says guilt bubbling and burning in her stomach like gasoline at the lie. The soles of her feet tingle in anxiety at the thought that Parkinson may be waiting or worse have left.

“I’m not staying” says Harry quietly still staring at the locket

“Harry?”

“I’m not staying” repeats Harry

“What do you mean mate”

“I’m not staying. I’m leaving Hogwarts tonight." says Harry looking towards Ron and Hermione a determined glint in deep green eyes.

“Harry...”

“You’ve seen what he can do. Dumbledore’s gone. There’s no one left. I have to find the rest of the Horcruxes and destroy them

“Harry...”

"No Hermione” says Harry firmly his voice rising slightly “How long before Voldemort attacks and takes over everything, especially with Dumbledore gone. You know it’s true you know it’s me who has to do this. I’m leaving tonight. Now. There’s nothing you can say”

"You’re right Harry." says Hermione stunning both boys into silence.

Ron stares at her with open mouth amazement expecting far more of an argument from Hermione.

The reality is a part of her has always thought that this day may come, a day when they may have to flee or challenge Voldemort without the assistance of others. It’s the way it’s been so far from so why would this be any different from breaking the all the charms to retrieve the Philosophers stone to saving Sirius from the Dementors kiss to their battle in the Ministry of Magic it’s always just been them. She has even prepared an escape bag full of useful items since the battle in the Ministry in case they needed a quick escape. It was always going to be Harry but despite what he thinks he won’t be alone.

"But like I said before Harry" says Hermione very conscious that every moment that passes means Parkinson may have left and she may not get another chance to see her “There is no I. We are coming with you and that’s the end of that" she says raising her hand to stop Harry from interrupting "Just At least wait until morning to give us time to collect some things. Tomorrow is Saturday no one will notice us missing. We can leave early before breakfast and go to Grimmauld Place and work things out clearly with a plan.

"Before breakfast" gasps Ron in shock

"It will be dangerous and I won’t have you hurt for something I have to do"

"Harry do not be ridiculous. You can not do this alone"

"You don’t have to do this at all. Enough people have died for me"

"Mate" interjects Ron" who had been watching the exchange between Harry and Hermione like a tennis match “She’s got a point, this is bigger than just you. We are in this together and I hate to say it but we won’t last 10 minutes without Hermione."

"That’s settled. We leave tomorrow at 6am, collect what you need to. Fill Ron in on the memories. I’m going to library" says Hermione before swiftly turning down the corridor

“Don’t forget what Ginny said about being late” Ron calls out after her

The sharp clacking sound of her feet hitting the stone floor reverberate off the walls as she hastily makes her way towards the seventh floor where the Room of Requirement is. Her heart pounds hard against her chest threatening to break out at any moment. She feels completely disjointed unable to comprehend and understand all that has occurred this evening. Her chest still heavy of the news of Dumbledore but at least he’s not dead there’s still hope she tells herself over and over.

The memories of Voldemort shocking her into numbness and now this, they are going to be leaving Hogwarts, their safe haven their place of security, their home away from home. Dumbledore, Horcruxes, R.A.B, Harry it’s all there but something does not fit the puzzle, there’s still so much missing and something in particular, doesn’t feel right but she can’t quite put her finger on it.

A tidal wave of fear washes over her forcing her to take a deep breath what if she can’t work it out, what if she lets Ron, Harry and everyone else down. What if she fails them, Ron said it himself, they wouldn’t last 10 minutes without her, they are expecting her to have the answers but she doesn’t. Her brain is in a violent swirl of chaos as she tries to organise her thoughts and feelings on everything she has discovered this evening. Her mind constantly regurgitating worries of the day and the worries of tomorrow and thereafter, she should be going to the library, packing anything else they may need but instead, her legs aimless carry her forward towards the seventh floor, towards what she doesn’t know. Her palms begin to sweat as the panic sets in. This is madness utter madness she tells herself, but she may never get another opportunity to see Parkinson.

She stops suddenly arriving at the destination. Hermione’s sore shoulders drop. Parkinson is not there. She’s too late, Parkinson has left. Feeling deflated she stands staring at the spot she thought Parkinson would be a strange combination of disappointment and relief flows through her.

“Granger”

The soft husky call of her name has her jumping right out of her skin. Spinning around quickly she spies Parkinson standing behind her failing miserably to hold back a smile at the fright she just gave her

“Merlin, Parkinson”

Parkinson’s lip twitches into a broader smile capturing Hermione’s full attention drawing her in like a moth to a flame. A fever burns deep inside of her as that uncontrollable urge to lean forward to take her Parkinson’s lips against hers simmers to the surface again. Excitement and nerves pulsate through her body, and comfortably nestling between her legs

“I thought maybe we should talk” Hermione manages to breath out, trying her best to ignore the insatiable dull ache and tingling in her pants.

Hermione’s legs shake uncontrollably as she walks past what seems to just a blank stone wall under the intense gaze of Parkinson. A place for Parkinson and I to be alone thinks Hermione.

She hears Parkinson emit a tiny gasp when a large wooden door appearing on her third passing of the wall.

Her heart thunders against her chest as she reaches for the knob, stilling at the thought what if the room has created a bedroom, thinks Hermione despite what her body is saying that’s not what she wants, well it is but it’s not the impression she wants to give to Parkinson and they need to talk. She needs to understand what is going on, but then again does she even have time if they are leaving tomorrow.

Are you going to open the door asks Parkinson’s her voice raspier than normal sending a warm shiver down Hermione’s spine

Pushing open the door Hermione lets out a small breath of relief that there is no bed, instead, a large comfortable looking vintage green couch. A crackling fire blazes near the lounge, cheerily emitting a calming warmth and golden glow across the room which gently kisses a coffee table holding a colourful steaming pot of tea. Strategically scattered around the floor of the lounge is an abundance of plush extra large cushions of a multitude of colours, Hermione dare not count them, it’s put Trelawney's classroom to shame

Sitting on the sofa Hermione’s mouth is almost too dry to speak. “Tea” she manages to croak our nodding towards the pot.

A heavy silence settles over them, a thick uneasy tension in the air as Hermione pours the tea. Unsettled Hermione glances unceremoniously around the room as she hands Parkinson her tea, she hadn’t planned what to say, she’s at a loss for where to start. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat she wipes a nervous sweaty hand along her skirt. Minutes feel like an eternity as the tension builds, she just wants to break out and run for the door. This is going horribly

“You’re a bit stiff there” says Parkinson breaking the awkward silence

“Excuse me. I don’t see you being very relaxed” lashes out Hermione offended by Parkinson’s accusation “you're not exactly bubbling at the seams with conversation”

Staring at Hermione slightly shocked at her outburst “I meant your neck”, replies Parkinson “it looks sore”

“Oh” replies Hermione sheepishly “yes sorry, umm yes I slept wrong the other night” she bites back the urge to say it’s your fault

This is going horribly thinks Hermione, what a horrible, horrible mistake this is.

“Sit here” says Parkinson taking Hermione cup from her and placing on the coffee table “In front of me”

“Why”

“Just do it Granger”

Following her instructions, Hermione sits herself down on one of the extra large soft cushions with her back to Parkinson nervous and unsure of what is coming. She inhales sharply as Parkinson slowly pulls her hair to one side, exposing her neck to the warm air. The sound of her heart beating furiously reverberates in her ears her breath quickens in anticipation, a rush of heat swoons through her body.

Hermione lets out a deep groan as Parkinson’s fingers begin to gently knead into her shoulders. An electric charge streams down her spine at Parkinson’s touch, her eyes flutter shut enjoying the feeling of every knot being manipulated into submission.

Only the gentle crackle of the fire and her deep slow breaths fill the otherwise soundless room as Parkinson works to untangle the knots.

She senses Parkinson squirm in her seat as another small groan escapes her when Parkinson’s thumbs dig deep into her muscles and continue to rub in slow meticulous circles. Hermione is sure Parkinson fingertips can feel her thundering heartbeat beneath her ribcage.

She bites down on her bottom lip as Parkinson gently pushes her forward by slowly rolling her fingertips against the curve of her back all the way down to just above the waistband of her skirt.  

She holds her breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Parkinson slide off the lounge kneeling close behind her. She tries to remain calm and collected but the overwhelming throbbing in her heart and between her legs consumes her as Parkinson’s breast press against her back, her fingers now playing her like a symphony as they smoothly massage from her shoulders down her arms, her senses becoming seduced with every movement.

She can’t wait any longer, the pounding desire that is engulfing her is all too consuming, a rushing sound swirls around her ears excitement building in the knowledge that they would not be interrupted.

She can feel Parkinson’s hot breath against her slender neck. Her heart hammering faster than she could ever imagine, she summons the courage to turn her head and meet Parkinson’s gaze.

Slowly, cautiously she drifts towards Parkinson’s lips. Their eyes firmly fixed on each other, an electric charge shoots down her spine as their lips softly graze against one another. The soft warm touch of Parkinson’s lips drawing her in further, washing away thoughts of talking as her eyes draw shut.

Hot shivers race down her legs as their kissing deepens, and Parkinson hungrily manoeuvres Hermione to face her never breaking the touch of their lips. Unable to contain herself anymore, Hermione, pulls Parkinson further into a fiery and passionate kiss. Her hands work their way into Parkinson’s silken hair as she moves herself onto Parkinson’s lap, straddling her. A swell of heat flows through her body as Parkinson groans in approval pulling her even closer. She’s never been so bold. She kisses like she’s never kissed before, she kisses like it will be her last, she kisses to feel something other than worry, she kisses like there is no tomorrow. And when Parkinson tugs at her sweater and pulls it over her head she doesn’t resist.

Moaning into each other’s mouths, tongues intertwined, the need to have skin on skin contact practically unbearable as her fingers tremble and fumble with the buttons on Parkinson’s shirt, their lips never parting as Parkinson mimics her action.

Breast against breast and belly against belly they roll to the cushion cladded floor as Hermione nervously slides her hand along Parkinson’s bare waist and rolls the palm of her hand firmly over Parkinson’s breast. The feeling of Parkinson’s erect nipples under her touch and drawn out moan sends steaming goose pimples down her body. Hermione is out of breath as Parkinson breaks from their kiss just long enough to fling her shirt and bra off and throw it across the room before hungrily kissing Hermione again and stripping her of her own shirt. And when Parkinson’s hand slide underneath her bra pinching and rolling her own hard nipple she can’t help but moan out in sheer pleasure.

Sweat forms on the back of her neck as Parkinson’s hand slowly caresses down her waist and along her thigh. Her body burning as Parkinson slides her hand over her underwear her and cups her hand around wet pussy. A deep pleasurable groan escapes her and she inhales deeply, she’s never been this close to someone before, she should stop but her body refuses as she kisses Parkinson even deeper. Her mind blank as Parkinson slowly lowers her underwear and still, she does not resist, the need to be touched, the need for her ache to be released too strong.

A burning heat rips through her as Parkinson playfully traces her fingers along her wet folds teasing her into arching her back towards her. Sweat forms along her spine, her breathing laboured, her hips moving at their own accord as Parkinson breaks from their kiss to nip and suck at the skin on her neck. Parkinson’s hot breath against her skin sending a new army of goose bumps down her body, every nerve tingle, on fire longing for more.

The sensation of Parkinson’s touch and kisses sending tingling pleasure down her entire body concentrating around her pussy. Mindlessly she spreads her legs wider. All her senses are in overdrive as Parkinson continues to explore her, all thoughts escape her as she continues to moan and grind against Parkinson desperate for more.

Her eyes momentarily shoot open before squeezing shut again as Parkinson pushes one then two fingers knuckle deep into her, the words “Oh my God” carelessly roll off her tongue over and over as she grips tightly onto Parkinson's shoulders, arching her back even further from the floor and wrapping her legs tightly around Parkinson’s waist.

Rolling her hips rhythmically onto Parkinson’s fingers with every deep hard push in and out she can’t control the loud moans of delight that come from her.

Instinctively moving together, their breathing ragged and fast, sweat forms, trickling down her brow as Parkinson pushes deeper and deeper into her. The brush of Parkinson’s soft hair around her neck and shoulders feels like tiny pinpricks against her hypersensitive skin. Searing white heat roars through her, barely controlling the trembling need roaring over her Hermione groans even louder as Parkinson bites and grazes her teeth sharply against her collarbone.

And when Parkinson dances and curls her fingers at just the right spot she no longer can contain the storm of sensation that rolls over her as she screams out in pleasure. Her orgasm so powerful she is left breathlessly limp.

Panting for air her body trembles uncontrollably beneath Parkinson. She can feel rather than see Parkinson smile against her skin as she gently kisses her neck and shoulders and moves towards Hermione’s lips.

The look on Parkinson’s face is one of amused triumphant as if she has a secret a look she’s never seen Parkinson wear before.

“You sure you haven’t done this before” pants out Hermione unable to move and still trying to catch her breath

“Let’s just say, books can be quite informative,” says Parkinson kissing Hermione’s neck lightly “as you would know”

There’s a definite element of cheekiness to her tone that Hermione’s fuzzy post orgasm mind can’t quite comprehend.

“I mean who knew a book on Divination could be so accurate when it comes to certain things” says Parkinson her lips fighting between smiling and kissing

Hermione’s cheeks redden at the slow realisation that Parkinson must have gone back to Tomes and Scrolls to pick up her quills and found the book she had hidden ”Witches Who Like Witches, 101 Guide to pleasure”

“Lucky for you” continues Parkinson completely amused “I was able to read a bit more, to get a true understanding of the finer points. Top of the class for me” she says unable to keep the cockiness out of her tone,

Hermione’s eyes widen to the challenge. Parkinson has never beaten her at anything and she will be damned if it starts now. Despite still panting for breath she catches Parkinson unprepared and easily flips her onto her back pinning her to the ground holding her hands firmly above her head. 

A coy smile forming on her face as Parkinson’s breathing instantly changes. Lust and desire rekindling in her loins as she admires Parkinson’s perfect heaving breast before her. 

Confidence builds as she dips her head and takes one of Parkinson’s hard nipples into her mouth. Rolling and flicking her tongue slowly over the nub, curling her tongue around and around. Her body flushes with heat at the growing sounds of pleasure coming from Parkinson ricochet off the walls as she begins to suck harder.

Recalling the images and instructive words from the book to tantalise and tease she knows exactly what to do to drive Parkinson insane. Purposely slow she moves her lips over grazing her teeth along Parkinson’s ribs savouring the salty taste of Parkinson’s damp skin as she begins to crawl down her body.  Nerves are replaced by excitement as she feels Parkinson shiver beneath her, when she begins to slowly unzip her skirt, lowering it and her underwear with every kiss downward. A tingling sensation caressing her skin as Parkinson lies naked on the floor, the golden rays of the roaring fire flicking against her skin. 

Kissing and licking gently along Parkinson’s inner thigh she can see the effect she has had on Parkinson.

Urged on by Parkinson’s intoxicating moans any worry of her inexperience quickly melts away. Her tongue gently carcasses the silken flesh, licking and softly sucking around the swollen folds of Parkinson’s womanhood. Electric currents trickle down her body, her own pussy pulsating as Parkinson aimlessly grasps for the cushions around moaning.

 With one broad lick along the entire of Parkinson pussy, she is rewarded with a moan so deep and primal it makes Hermione squeeze her legs together, it was the sexist most arousing sound she has ever heard. 

With Parkinson’s body squirming beneath her, the deep chesty sounds of pleasure coming from her were making Hermione aroused all over again. Hermione herself moans as Parkinson weaves her hands through Hermione’s hair tugging slightly as she flicks her tongue against Parkinson’s hardened aching clit. Holding firmly onto Parkinson’s waist to keep her in place, hard strokes on her clit soon have Parkinson arching her back as she rides into a loud howling orgasm before falling lifelessly onto the pillows.

Painstakingly slow Hermione glides her tongue along Parkinson’s stomach, over her breast up smiling as she slides upwards, grazing her teeth along her sensitive skin to her ear. Teasingly she glides her tongue along the shell shape of Parkinson’s ear smiling wider as Parkinson shudders beneath her as she takes her lobe into her wet mouth.

Breathing hotly into her ear “lucky for you I read the most important chapter” whispers Hermione.


	12. Now What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter - hope you enjoy

Her legs quiver and shake, each and every cell pulsates and races around her body as she lifts herself to a kneeling position next to Parkinson, watching her attempt to regain some normality to her breathing,

Hermione smiles meekly admiring how the light of the flames from the fire shimmy and dance across Parkinson’s naked skin, highlighting the little flecks of sweat that kiss her damp skin. She really is quite beautiful thinks Hermione

As her eyes skim down Parkinson’s naked form, she begins gnawing gently on her bottom lip, the slow realisation of what had just occurred between her and Parkinson begins to seep in.

Nerves build, her fingers play nervously with the hem of her skirt. Discretely she tries to lower her skirt over her shaking thighs in an attempt to offer her some additional modesty. Despite Parkinson being completely naked and her just partially undressed she has never been this disrobed in front of anyone like this. Her body tightens unsure of what to say or do she hadn’t planned for this, it just happened. Normally she would just scoff disapprovingly at anyone who claimed “it just happened” but here she is.

Doubt sits heavily on her chest, the air around her thickens making it just that little bit harder to breathe, _what happens now_ she asks herself

That constant niggling stream of insecurity flows through her veins to the surface, coming to bite her like an angry Hippogriff. Her palms sweat a little, adrenalin courses through her, shutting down her ability to think logically. She glances at the door, she wants to run but instead, she stays put watching Parkinson’s chest slowly rise up and down at a steady pace.

The gentle crackle of the fire that was so endearing moments ago, is now like a sharp harsh whip against her ears. Her mind begins to play tricks on her, what if this is just part of a bigger perverse strategy. She still doesn’t know if Parkinson is a Voldemort sympathiser, _oh dear Merlin what if she slept with a budding Death Eater?_ she panics 

“Now what?” Hermione blurts out unable to contain the insecure emotions swirling through her

She can feel the colour drain from her face at the look of uncertainty on Parkinson’s face as she too comes to terms with what just occurred and tries to find the right words to say what she is thinking.

Doubt radiates off Hermione like the heat from the flames, she crosses her arms over her breasts in an attempt to cover herself up. Her pulse quickens, she thinks her heart might actually explode as she waits for Parkinson to respond.

“I don’t want to go back to the common room just yet.” Parkinson whispers gently “I....I like...how you make me forget”

Hermione’s shoulders drop in relief letting out a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding. She knows exactly what Parkinson means.

This, whatever it is, is a welcomed distraction to everything around them - Voldemort, the speculation and talk of the inevitable war between light and dark and the devastation and unknown loss of loved ones that will surely come from that.

“But a blanket would be nice” Parkinson adds

A soft fleece blanket appears as soon as the words leave Parkinson’s lips.

Goosebumps shimmer down Hermione’s legs at the look in Parkinson's eyes, an odd combination of hunger and gentleness, a look Hermione has never seen before as she slowly drapes the blanket over Parkinson.

“You can come under too...if you want” adds Parkinson shyly lifting the side of the blanket to welcome Hermione in. Smiling, Hermione gently slides in beside Parkinson.

 Silence fills the room, both at a loss for words as they both lie on their back staring at the tall arched ceiling. Unlike the awkward agonising silence of before this thick silence is filled with wonderment and tranquility. Hermione watches the smooth shapes the light from the flames flicker and lick the stone ceiling.

Unquenchable need still floods Hermione’s system. The body heat radiating from Parkinson coupled with the memory of Parkinson’s moans ringing in her ears and the images of her arching her back towards Hermione has her wanting to desperately explore more.

“Who’s God?” asks Parkinson

“What?” says Hermione the question taking her by complete surprise

“You mentioned his name before. Lots of times actually” Parkinson adds with a coy cocky smile

Hermione’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. She knows exactly the moment the Parkinson is referring to. The moment her body and mind gave way to an overwhelming orgasm thanks to hers truly. And the look on Parkinson’s face tells that she is rather pleased with herself.

“Oh, Merlín. Tell me you weren’t trying to call out Godric Gryffindor’s name?” laughs Parkinson turning to her side to look directly at Hermione. “Because that would be taking house pride a bit too far”.

The way Parkinson’s eyes glitter and sparkle with teasing delight has Hermione smiling with her. It’s completely different to the usual taunts and teasing she has been accustomed too.

“No,” says Hermione rolling her eyes “He, I mean it, well some say it’s a He when they pray. It’s rather hard to explain really. People have different thoughts on God. Oh Where to begin.” says Hermione brow furrowed in as she tries to piece her thoughts together on how to explain this simply but precisely. She remembers a quote from Einstein her Grandma would recite “if you can’t explain it simply, then you don’t understand it well enough”.

Taking a deep breath Hermione begins “The best way to describe him is a Diety with unlimited power, all-seeing, and everywhere. Some say he can create miracles. All muggles see him differently some as an old man with a big white beard, others...”

“It sounds like muggles might be worshiping a wizard”

“Well no” says Hermione checking to see that Parkinson wasn’t trying to infer some Pureblood rhetoric about muggle inferiority to wizards and witches. Eventhough Hermione could see how the description may be remarkably reminiscent of someone with Dumbledore’s looks “Not all muggles....”

“Granger” interrupts Parkinson placing her index finger on Hermione’s lips “It doesn’t matter” The gesture hushing Hermione into silence.

Hermione’s stomach lurches forward as Parkinson does not remove her finger but instead gently and softly traces it along her lips, each soft stroke rebuilding the fever deep within her. She watches steadily as Parkinson is completely focused on the movement of her lips against her finger.

Hermione’s breath shallows as she stares admiringly into Parkinson’s eyes. From afar they have always looked brown but now being so near she notices how light honey specks sprinkle and break up the liquid warmth framed by beautiful thick black lashes.

“Do you remember the time Weasley coughed up slugs?” Parkinson asks still tracing her finger along Hermione’s lips.

Hermione instinctively tenses. Of course, she remembers. It was the first time she had heard and been called that derogatory word, Mudblood. A word that implies she is of lower breeding or worth and undeserving of the magic world. A word that had plagued her thoughts pushed her to prove that she was just as good if not better than the rest, than any pureblood. That her heritage did not define her and her ability to be an outstanding witch, that she belonged just as much as the next person. Ron had attempted to come to her defence but his broken wand had backfired and saw him coughing up disgusting slimy oversized slugs for nearly a whole day

Normally she would retaliate and argue but there is a softness and vulnerability in the way that Parkinson asks the question that has Hermione remaining still just staring at Parkinson. Her silence encouraging Parkinson to continue

“Crabbe and Goyle are not the sharpest wands in Ollivander's”. She pauses “They are likely to get themselves or someone near them hurt or killed” she scoffs softly “And” her voice even quieter now, less sure. “That’s why I study and practice healing spells.”

A gentle flush of pink had arisen in Parkinson’s cheeks that make her look so young and exposed. There is a vulnerability in her eyes that Hermione can’t resist. She lets her eyes travel Parkinson’s face so delicate in the semi-darkness. Parkinson has the same fears as she does, the same uncertainties and worries.

“I don’t want to die, Granger. Not for anyone or anything,” she says softly still tracing the tip of her finger over Hermione’s lip.

There’s a stillness of the air, an eerie sort of tranquillity engulfs them at Parkinson’s confession.

Her hand migrates to Parkinson’s hair, pushing a loose strand back from her face. Their gazes lingered on one another.

 “Let’s just forget for tonight” whispers Hermione leaning into Parkinson for a kiss.

It’s gentler than any other kiss they have shared but filled with an indescribable energy of intensity that makes Hermione’s head feel light. Teasing each other’s mouths open their tongues caress against each other. Hands ghost over each other’s body exploring every soft warm curve.

Hermione’s hand drifts Parkinson’s hip, pulling her close until there is no space between them. Her body quivering with desire as Parkinson single-handedly undoes her bra slowly lowers the straps from her shoulders peppering her hot skin with kisses as she does.

Hermione arches her throat towards Parkinson desperately. Electric prickles cruise down her spine, as Parkinson dips her head to take her harden nipple into her mouth. Parkinson’s mouth is so warm and moist, the caress of her lips and tongue against her nipple softer than she could have imagined willing and coaxes long moans to escape her.

Parkinson’s soft mews as she sucks and licks at Hermione’s breasts reignite a hurricane of unwavering heat within her. She trembles with desire as Parkinson rolls her onto her back still licking and sucking her aching breasts before hoisting herself up to straddle Hermione, the blanket that was covering them falling from their shoulders and pooling carelessly around Parkinson’s thighs.

Hermione blushes under the weight of Parkinson’s stare. She can feel the heat of Parkinson’s core billowing deeply against her as their hands softly roam and explore each other’s bodies appreciatively, their eyes never breaking apart.

Hermione lightly traces her hands down Parkinson’s torso leaving a trail of goose bumps in her wake. She can’t help but groan in unison with Parkinson as she cups her pussy and begins playing with the velvety hills and valleys of Parkinson’s wet folds, unable to resist the curiosity she plunges two then three fingers deep into Parkinson’s warm and inviting pussy hoping to elicit the same response Parkinson did with her.

The way Parkinson’s hips move in hypnotic rhythm against Hermione’s fingers has her own pussy tingling with aching need. She is completely mesmerised by the way Parkinson’s body rolls and snakes against her fingers, it’s no wonder she was sorted into Slytherin.  And when Parkinson slips her fingers between her legs to play and tease Hermione’s clit, it takes every ounce of restraint for her body not to erupt on the spot.

Her breathing becomes ragged as she feels that delicious tension in her very core building again. Parkinson’s muscles tighten around Hermione’s fingers, and she knows they are both close to being pushed towards a second climax and yet their eyes remain locked onto each other. Hot liquid fills her veins, her back arches, Parkinson’s body begins to quiver and twitch as a thunderstorm of sensations run through them, gasping and moaning in pleasure she succumbs first followed quickly by Parkinson their eyes still locked, their bodies convulse as they both tip over the edge.  

 

***

 

The heat from the flickering flames of the fire wake Hermione. Streaks of golden light penetrate and shimmer across the room.  She blinks to adjust her eyes to her surroundings, smiling softly at scene of Parkinson’s legs tangled with hers. Carefully rolling to her side, she admires the flawless skin of the woman lying next to her, the way her shoulders gently rise and fall in her deep sleep. Her features more relaxed and content than she has ever seen.  Hermione softly traces her finger along Parkinson’s bare shoulder, so soft and delicate. She smiles at the memory of the time they shared

She has no idea how long she has been here or what time it is. The thought brings a molten of guilt oozing through her insides. Harry, Ron, Horcruxes, she stiffens at the sudden realisation, that she needs to leave. Her breath quickens in panic what if Ron and Harry have been waiting for her, how does she explain to them where she has been let alone what she has been doing.  Looking towards Parkinson she wants desperately to curl up into the curve of Parkinson’s fine body, and forget but she can’t she has to help her friends, she has a task.  

With a heavy heart she slowly detangles herself from Parkinson’s hold. Quietly she searches furiously for her clothes, dressing with the utmost quietness so not to disturb Parkinson.

Confusion reigns deep within her, barely having time to process what has happened, as she makes her way to the door. Her hand stills as she reaches for the knob, she can’t just leave after what they had just shared. 

Carefully Hermione turns and kneels against the sleeping woman.  Parkinson’s lips are slightly parted, enough for Hermione to see the tinge of pink from her tongue, leaning in she softly kisses her lips. Her chest tightens she wishes she could leave a note, something for Parkinson.

As if the Room reads her thoughts a beautiful delicate purple flower appears, she’s not quite sure what it is or what it means but trusts in the Room to have provided the message she needs to convey.

Taking one last look at the sleeping Parkinson she exits the Room.

Her fingers trail against the cold stone as she walks down the lonely corridors. Tears threat to spill from her eyes. This may be the last time she sees Hogwarts, her home. How will Hogwarts change as the war approaches, or worse if the war is lost.  How will muggle borns be treated, will they be allowed to even enter then ancient walls.

“Hermione” the harsh whisper of her name pulls her from her thoughts. She had not realised she was this near her common room.

Harry and Ron stand at the entrance of the Gryffindor common room, The look of their bleary eyes and the way Ron is still dressing himself tells Hermione she is not late.

“Ready asks Harry”

Hermione can merely nod, "I just forgot my bag. Accio bag” she chants holding her wand high. A small purple beaded bag shoots past Ron and Harry.

“What’s in that?” asks Ron

“Everything we need” replies Hermione The look on both of their faces tells her they don’t understand. “I’ll explain it later”

“Let’s get going” says Harry "before Filch or anyone else finds us”

Slowly they make their way through the castle, only the sound of their feet against the stone floors for company. They have done this many times during their schooling years at Hogwarts, but the three of them know this is different. Each are lost in their own thoughts and feelings. They are embarking into unknown territory. 

The coolness of the morning air hits them hard as they exit the charmed warmth of the castle walls. Without words they make their way to the edge of the castle grounds. Ron stops suddenly, forcing Harry and Hermione to the same.  Behind him sits Hogwarts tall and proud an powering presence.

 “it’s all going to change now isn’t it?” he questions softly. A childlike look on his face

Hermione’s eye flick momentarily towards Hogwarts, scanning the tall grey time worn walls, to where she would assume the Room of Requirement is situated. 

“It already has Ron, it already has” she replies


	13. 287 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a mixture of book and movie scenes

Razor sharp pins and needles flood her veins, her heart beats with ferocity, her muscles tight as If she is hanging from the edge of a cliff desperately grasping for survival, unsure if she will have the strength to hang on or plummet down to her demise. 

After 287 days it has all come down to this moment, 287 days filled with fear, frustration, pain, desperation, confusion and every other emotion imaginable in between. 287 days and here she now stands shoulder to shoulder like a hardened general with Harry and Ron, ready to embark on what they all know deep down is their final mission. After 287 days, after everything they have been through has led them here, led them to now. She is heading back to Hogwarts. 

Her body taunt as she stares at the figure in the portrait in an inn that smells remarkably like a barn. A woman smiles down at them sweetly, her eyes sparkle with a familiar crystal blue. Taking a deep breath, the seconds crawl by, her logical mind trying to comprehend all that has she learned and experienced. Even if she had an ocean full of ink and a hillside of parchment, it would still not be enough to be able to record and explain what they’ve been through. 

They have been on the run from Voldemort and his followers for 287 days, their stay at Grimmauld Place short-lived with the Ministry falling only a few days after their hasty departure from Hogwarts. She remembers the disbelief they shared in the news that the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, a figure so strong and stoic, had been assassinated mere days after his visit to Hogwarts. She had thought they would have more time to prepare and plan, but Voldemort had been planning and strategising longer than they could have imagined. It was as if he was waiting for the final piece of the puzzle to fall into place. Dumbledore. 

With Dumbledore out of commission, he struck like a crescendo he took the Ministry in one swift sweep right under everybody’s noses and before they even realised engulfing the Wizarding community with anti-muggle propaganda and blatant prejudiced Ministry sanctioned raids. Wizards feared for their lives and the lives of their loved ones.  
Hogwarts, her heart twists painfully, her beautiful Hogwarts was next to fall. She can still clearly see the Daily Prophet headline announcing the demotion of Professor McGonagall and promotion of Professor Snape. Harry had been furious pacing mercilessly up and down the kitchen in Grimmauld Place, this being the unequivocal proof that Snape was a Death Eater all along and had cursed Dumbledore to give Voldemort the upper hand. Without any evidence to contradict his claim, Hermione could only agree with his conclusion, especially when Death Eaters started popping up outside of Grimmauld Place. She along with Harry and Ron could only assume Snape had told them the address.  
No longer a safe haven they had no option but to gather what they could and run. 

By some form of divine miracle during their short stay they had stumbled across the initials R.A.B - Regulus Arcturus Black - Sirius’ brother, another tragedy. She held back the tears that threatened to fall. Sirius, poor darling Sirius would never know that his baby brother turned against Voldemort and his Pureblood superiority beliefs after discovering the cruel and vile way Voldemort had treated Kreacher, the Blacks loyal house-elf. Sirius would never know that his baby brother sacrificed his life in order to destroy a Horcrux, to protect those who could not protect themselves. 

Hermione’s heart constricts in grief as she recalls the distressed and whimpering way Kreacher had explained how Regulus and he went to a cave to retrieve Slytherin’s Locket, now a Horcrux, how Regulus refused to allow Kreacher drink the dangerous potion protecting the locket, instead choosing to sacrifice himself. The look of absolute devastation that Kreacher wore on his face as he told the story of how once retrieved he failed to destroy the locket no matter how he tried, how Regulus died for nothing broke her heart with every word.

Breathing in deeply she remembers the roller coaster of emotions they all felt as Kreacher explained that Fletcher, that slippery untrustworthy tiny wizard has stolen the true locker which ended up in the hands of the one person she had hoped never to encounter again, Dolores Umbridge. 

Of course the only way to retrieve that locket was to break into the Ministry of Magic, the very place crawling with Death Eaters, the very place that was hunting them down. - Yet somehow they managed to do that very thing - just. They escaped by a hair breath. She apparated them to the only place she could think, of The Forest of Dean, the place that would be their hideaway for months to come. With locket in hand, their new makeshift home almost destroyed them emotionally and physically, practically starving they survived on roots and anything else they could find foraging in the forest. It was the biggest tole on their friendship especially when Ron unable to control his temper and belief in what they were doing left them. She actually felt her heartbreak and shatter into a myriad of pieces at that moment, it was the day she seriously thought they may lose this battle. She has always thought as long as they stick together they can achieve any task no matter how hard. 

“You don’t strike me as a fool Harry Potter.” 

The gruff voice of the Inn Keeper snapping her from her thoughts. Hermione turns taking in his appearance, long, stringy, wiry grey hair and very long grey beard. He wore glasses, behind the dirty lenses, his eyes a familiar piercing, brilliant blue. So this was Aberforth Dumbledore, Professor Dumbledores brother. He certainly didn’t have the joyful charismatic charm of her Headmaster.

“You’re mad for coming here, you all are” 

It was true, they were crazy but they had no choice. Harry has seen into Voldemort's thoughts. She would be lying if she said she was not angry at him for letting Voldemort into his mind, but if she was truly honest she was scared. What if Voldemort had imprinted false thoughts for Harry to see and this was all a big trap to capture and kill Harry. Hermione had tried desperately to reason with him, to think things through but Harry was adamant, he was surer of this than anything else. He was unshakeable in his knowledge that Voldemort now knew they were searching for his Horcruxes. Nervous and worrisome butterflies flutter in her tummy as she recalls Harry telling them that Voldemort was angry, that he saw Hogwarts and Rowena Ravenclaw, that was the next Horcrux and they had to go to Hogwarts before Voldemort did. She had begged and pleaded with Harry to hang on, to plan but he was resolute in going to Hogwarts to find the Ravenclaw Horcrux before Voldemort, whatever it may be. 

They had planned on sneaking back into Hogwarts through Honeydukes, but what they hadn’t planned on was the Caterwauling Charm surrounding Hogsmeade alerting everyone and anyone around. Her ears still ringing from the high pitched screeching alarm they had set off the moment they arrived to Hogsmeade. Thankfully Aberforth had come to their rescue and here they were. 

“It’s not bloody safe .Madness coming here”. 

“I told you. I have a task to complete. We have to finish what Professor Dumbledore started, we have to find and destroy Voldemort’s Horcruxes like he wanted and would have done himself” said Harry matter of factly again 

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione had almost missed the heated banter between Harry and Aberforth. 

“Bah” scoffs Aberforth “And how long do you think my brother has known about these Horcruxes hmm. Didn’t think of telling you earlier? Didn’t think of training you all these years? My brother one of the oh so greatest and smartest wizards ever gets himself cursed and is out of the picture? Can’t help?” Challenges Aberforth intensely, his blue eyes razor sharp 

Hermione’s stomach drops, Aberforth’s words suggesting that Professor Dumbledore had planned to be out of commission, had planned for them to do this alone without his help and guidance. She couldn’t let herself believe that. 

“It’s not safe Potter, nowhere is. Merlín they even broke into St Mungos, yes my brother can’t help you. 

Hermione’s heart clenches, they had heard that Death Eaters had broken into St Mungos obviously to finish Dumbledore off once and for all. Thankfully they must have been interrupted because they were unable to finish their task and to add salt to the injury they stole his wand. 

“He would have wanted to if he could” says Harry his voice rising 

“My brother Albus wanted a lot of things," continues Aberforth, "and people had a habit of getting hurt while he was carrying out his grand plans.”  
Hermione notices a sadness in his eyes as he glances towards the portrait of the young woman 

“You get away from here, and out of the country if you can. Forget my brother and his clever schemes. He's gone where none of this can hurt him, and you don't owe him anything."

“I can not and will not“ cries Harry

“Do you have any idea of the pain and torture they can and will put you through?” 

Shivers race down Hermione’s spine, congregating in the pit of her stomach. Her heart rate begins to speed up, her body aching at the memory of the torture and pain that Bellatrix Lestrange, the sadistic right-hand woman to Voldemort, had endured upon her after their capture by Snatchers in the Forest of Dean. 

She can feel herself becoming short of breath, her throat restricting, she needs to breathe but it was if the air was being sucked away from around her. Tension grows in her limb, her breathing becoming more rapid, more shallow. closing her eyes. Breath, breath she tells herself, you are safe you are strong. Everything happens for a reason. she does believe everything happens for a reason if we hadn’t been caught, they wouldn’t know that Hufflepuffs Cup was in the Lestrange Vault in Gringotts, breath Hermione you are strong, you can fight this she reassured herself. It could of been worse. She slowly controls her breath You are strong, it will not control you, she tells herself over and over. 

“Well do you Potter?” insists Aberforth 

Drawing all strength she has, she opens her eyes to face Harry and Aberforth 

“I do” says Hermione softly but strongly 

Three pairs of eyes turn to her, her confession has instantly silenced the room. Ron shifts from foot to foot; he wants to move to her but instead shifts uncomfortably on the spot. Guilt laces Harry’s eyes 

“I’m sorry to hear that” says Aberforth sincerely looking away from her in shame 

“We need to get to Hogwarts. We need to destroy the Horcruxes and Voldemort before more innocent people are hurt” continues Hermione feeling stronger with every word. “No one deserves to be persecuted for their blood status” says Hermione strongly. She will be damned if she is a victim let alone let someone else be. “Enough people have suffered or died for this” 

Her words obviously touching a cord with Aberforth, he grunts “Ariana, go get them” as her nods towards the portrait of the young woman.

Harry’s green eyes shine with pride. His soft eyes always reassure her. 

“I still say you’re bloody mad, the lot if you” grunts Aberforth 

“Thank you for your concern” replies Hermione mater of factly turning to the portrait, her back straightening tall as she watches the figure of Ariana Dumbledore becoming smaller and small as she walks away from them. 

Moments pass in silence, her heart still beating fast for what’s about to occur. 

“I was her favourite.” says Aberforth softly “I could get her to eat when no-one else could. I could calm her down, when she was in one of her rages, and when she was quiet, she used to help me feed the goats.” he says, his voice filled with love and remorse 

“She’s coming back with someone” exclaims Ron before she can reply to Aberforth

All eyes are fixed on the portrait as two figures slowly come into view getting larger and larger. Hermione’s heart beats faster with every passing second, nervous panic begins to simmer to the surface. Moving her hand towards her wand her muscles flex what if this too was a trap? What if she is bringing back a Death Eater?  
A familiar face pops out from behind Ariana as both figures reach the end of the pathway in the portrait. Hermione’s muscles instantly relax she could actually cry tears of joy and relief. She can see the gigantic smile that both Harry and Ron are wearing.

“Heya Harry, Hermione, Ron” says the friendly face of Neville Longbottom 

It takes a moment for the Joy to subside for Hermione to realise that he has scratches and faded bruises on his face. He so much looks older than when she last saw him. 

“Neville you’re hurt”

"Oh this, it’s nothing just a little run-in with the Carrows"

“Who?” asks Ron 

“I’ll fill you in on the way back. Aberforth” says Neville turning to innkeeper as if they were old friends “I’ll send the others through for some extra supplies if that’s ok?” 

Aberforth grunts in agreeance. Hermione has the distinct impression that he is a lot softer than he lets on, perhaps he is more like his brother afterall. 

“C’mon guys” says Neville cheerfully “There’s lots of people waiting to see you all again” 

Hermione’s heart stops. Her throat tightening, she is going back to Hogwarts. Sweat forms in the palms of her hands, her legs feel like lead as she stands concreted to the spot. A thought penetrates her mind, a cyclone of emotions swirl through her body, her legs begin to shake, she is going to see Pansy Parkinson again. 

“Hermione you coming” says Harry already part way through the secret entrance in the portrait 

"Yes yes" says Hermione as she stumbles towards the portrait and down a long thin passage 

It takes every effort of listen to Neville and not focus on Pansy Parkinson and their last encounter. Hermione’s cheeks flush with heat at the memory of she can feel her body starting to tingle and respond to the images of Parkinson naked body, replaying the touches, the kisses of their last encounter. Shaking her head she forces herself to turn her focus to Neville and the information he has to share. 

Hermione listens in disgust and dismay at how students are persecuted and treated. The Carrow’s a brother and sister duo, in charge of discipline, seem absolutely vile and evil, they make Umbridge seem like a sweet little pussycat. 

“We're supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on students who have detention” says Neville the smile fading from his face 

What?" says Harry, Ron, and Hermione in unison, their voices echoing up and down the passage. 

"That's how I got this," says Neville pointing to a deep cut on his cheek “ I said I wouldn’t do it” 

Hermione could feel her anger building in the pit of her belly, clenching her fists tightly she continues to listen. 

“Some students are into it, though. A couple of the Slytherins really enjoy it” 

Hermione inwardly gasps please don’t say Parkinson, please don’t say Parkinson she prays silently 

“Crabbe and Goyle absolutely love it. Probably because it’s the first time they've ever been good at anything”

Hermione can’t help but feel some relief in Neville’s statement and lack of mention of Parkinson’s name. 

They cut you?” says Ron in disbelief “They actually cut you” 

“They won't actually kill us” says Neville shrugging his shoulders “they'll torture us a bit, don't want to spill too much pure blood. “We used to cause a bit of ruckus” says Neville proudly, smiling broadly “graffiti, that sort of stuff, drove the Carrows mad. until Michael Corner got caught releasing a first-year they'd chained up, and they tortured him pretty badly. That scared people off a bit”. 

As the passage begins to slope upwards, Harry, Ron and Hermione walk in silence trying to comprehend what they had heard. What has happened to their beautiful and safe Hogwarts. 

“I went to the Room of Requirement for some peace” continues Neville as they arrive at the back of a portrait’ “ and now it’s kind of become our home, our refuge . We’ve been living in here for the better part of the last two weeks” he says pushing on the back of a portrait. 

Slipping through the portrait behind Harry, Hermione’s heart fills with joy at all the familiar friendly faces, Dean, Ginny, Cho, Lavender, Parvati, Hannah and so many many others.  
Hermione takes in the scene before her. A small sadness washes over her, the Room looks completely different to how she last saw it. The warmth and tenderness created when her and Parkinson spent the evening together is no longer, it now looks like what can only described as war campsite. 

The Room has expanded and created hammocks for them to sleep in, washing facilities are tucked away in the corner. She notices all the House emblems, minus Slytherin, are hanging proudly on the wall above a fireplace, the only thing that looks like how she last saw the Room. Near the corner is Ginny and Luna.  
“Harry, Hermione” exclaims Ginny running towards Hermione and hugging her and Harry tightly in an awkward double embrace.  
“Oi, what about me? What am I Nigel nobody. I am only your brother” says Ron  
“What are you doing here?” asks Ginny ignoring Ron  
“Yeah Harry. Fill us in. What’s the plan?” says Neville  
“There’s something we need to find, something hidden here in the castle, and it may help us defeat Voldemort” informs Harry a murmur of excitement buzzed across the room. 

“Ok, what is it?” asks Neville 

“We don't know.” replies Harry sheepishly

“Where is it?” asks Lavender 

"We don't know that either. I know that's not much to go on...."

“That's nothing to go on mate.” says Seamus

“How about we give them a bit of time to gather their thoughts guys” says Neville “Seamus, Dean there will be some supplies waiting for us if you want to go get them from Aberforth” directs Neville 

Hermione welcomes the reprieve she needs a moment to gather her thoughts and feelings about being back at Hogwarts, especially being in this room, that is causing a cyclone of nervous and confusing emotions to swirl about in the pit of her belly. 

As the students begin gathering around Harry asking him questions, Hermione knows this is her opportunity to slip away, to be alone, be it only for a minute. Instantly she makes her way to the fireplace, slowly easing her tired body down to sit in front of it and compose herself. A gentle smile crosses her lips as she watches the flames flicker and dance against the stone of the fireplace. The memories of the warm flames dancing across Parkinson’s body, echoed by her hands are seared into her brain popping up to torment her. 

“So what happened?” asks Ginny sliding next to Hermione instantly rousing her from her thoughts. 

“I don’t even know where to start Ginny says Hermione still staring into the flames “ We left Hogwarts....”

“I don’t mean that” whispers Ginny “Parkinson what happen there?”

Hermione’s cheeks burn, she is sure they are the colour of a bright red tomato, all she can hope is that Ginny thinks it is because of the heat radiating from the flames. 

“You better bloody tell me. I almost got hexed arranging that for you” 

“”Hexed?” asks Hermione 

“Seems she does have a jealous streak, didn’t exactly like me being too close to you”

Hermione recalls how odd she thought it was that Ginny was being overly affectionate that morning at breakfast. So it was all an act to razzie Parkinson up. 

“Really?” 

"Yes. Apparently. Hey don't change the subject. So did you snog?" 

"Ummm ...." 

Well? persists Ginny

Hermione squirms uncomfortably, her lips twisted into a weird half smile half cringe as her eyes dart about the room trying to avoid eye contact with Ginny’s inquisitive stare. 

Ginny gasps “did you...do more?” her eyes wide in anticipation. 

“Kind of” murmurs Hermione, her skin burning hotter than dragons breath 

“ Merlin, did you have sex with...”

“Sshhh” says Hermione looking around nervously to make sure no one else has heard. 

Fortunately everyone was too occupied with Ron’s tale of how they broke into Gringotts, one of the most secure places on earth. Ron’s hands are flying in the air mimicking how they valiantly used a dragon to break out and fly away. 

That poor trapped dragon in Gringotts. thinks Hermione. He survived so much torture, years of it and still he flew high upon his realest. I hope that dragon eats every goblin it crosses paths thinks Hermione bitterly that poor beautiful creature being maltreated like that. If I was minister of magic I would pass a decree against cruelty to animals and anyone witch or wizard who breached that law would be sentenced straight to Azkaban or placed on a Quidditch field we’ll see then who the stronger of the two are thinks Hermione doing her best to avoid the penetrating stare from Ginny. 

“Hermione” snaps Ginny “Focus. So did you?

Hermione can only nod her head in agreement lost for words. Her tummy flutters with anticipation about what Ginny will say or think of her. 

“It just sort of happened” she offers meekly in a way of explanation 

“And did you like it...with her?” asks Ginny 

Again Hermione can only nod her head 

“I suppose it makes sense in a way. All the years of anger and dislike between you two could lead to a bit of heated hate sex” says Ginny staring off into the fire 

“What” 

“Hate sex. When you’re so angry and have a deep hate for someone you have sex, apparently it’s very good” 

Furrowing her brow in deep thought “It was good, It didn’t really feel like hate thou, especially the second time” says Hermione out loud 

“SECOND TIME” Ginny exclaims loudly 

“Shhhhh” 

“Sorry, don’t worry no one is listening they are too focussed on Harry and Ron. You have to admit no one would have ever picked you and Parkinson to talk to each let alone...”

“Yes I know I know” 

A horrid thought crosses Hermione mind, “ Did Parkinson, has Parkinson, I mean was she cruel? Did she hurt people?” 

Her back instantly straightens in anticipation of Ginny’s answer. Her breath catches as she analyses Ginny’s expression she can’t tell what Ginny is going to tell her.

“Hmmm not as bad as others, she didn’t do the curses from what I’ve heard but didn’t stop it either and never to me but I know her dirty little secret don’t I?"

Chewing on her bottom lip, Hermione mulls over what she has heard, on the one hand it’s good that Parkinson did not commit any of the torture but in same instance she didn’t do anything to stop it. Look at Neville with all his deep cuts standing up for what is right. Self-preservation that’s what Parkinson stands for 

“She doesn’t want to die” whispers Hermione 

“No one wants to die, says Ginny defiantly “But important things are worth fighting for and even dying for don’t you think?” she says pointing around her 

“HE KNOWS” yells Seamus bursting through the portrait carrying an arm full of food, panting for air with Dean rushing in behind him. 

Hermione and Ginny conversation instantly cut short by the loud interruption

“What?” Says Neville standing to attention instantly

“Aberforth reckons something is happening. There’s way more Death Eaters about Hogsmeade and they are looking for something” 

“Or someone” says Dean looking over to Harry 

“Right. Catch up time is over. Harry find what you have to find” says Neville 

Hermione instantly stands to attention and is by Harry’s side in a flash. The blood pumps through her veins, bravery imprinted into her DNA, she is ready. 

“Luna, can you take Harry to the Ravenclaw Tower. The item we are looking for has something to do with Rowena Ravenclaw, there might be a clue in your common room” says Hermione 

“Of course” says the light voice of Luna

“Ron and I will go you know where” 

Harry nods understandingly, knowing that they are heading to the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve a Basilisk fang. 

It was Ron who had cleverly pointed out they could destroy the Hufflepuff Horcrux with Basaliks tooth in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry had spent hours teach Ron the correct pronunciation in Parseltongue whilst Hermione studied ways to destroy a Horcrux and ponder over and over the book Professor Dumbledore had left her, searching for clues. 

“Right let’s go” says Ron

“What about us? What do we do?” asks Cho

“Distractions”. They don’t know for sure Harry is here, we can’t let them find out" says Hermione 

“But be careful,” says Harry “don’t get caught for my sake” 

As if an alarm has sounded all the students from all the houses rise and are ready to take on their instructions like a fine tuned unit. All united for the greater good. 

Any hope that Harry may go undetected at Hogwarts is thwarted the moment they exit the Room of Requirement into the passageway. Screams and yells of “it’s Potter, its Harry Potter” bounce off the walls . Two Slytherin students that Hermione recognises as being the year below her have spotted them.

“We won’t have much time. Go Harry” says Hermione lunging and hugging Harry tightly before running down the passageway in the opposite direction towards the Chamber of Secrets with Ron. 

The atmosphere is charged with fierce intensity. Her heart thunders against her chest, her feet pound against the cold stone floor. A cacophony of sound plays around them, Dumbledore’s Army is in full swing distracting and causing a ruckus, all in the hope of distracting and deflecting from the news that Harry Potter has returned to Hogwarts. Her focus on one thing and one thing only get the Basilisk tooth and destroy the Hufflepuff cup and hopefully make Voldemort that little bit weaker. 

Panting hard Hermione and Ron arrive at Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor. Grasping her sides she struggles to catch her breath.  
She stares In amazement as Ron begins hissing. She gasps as the porcelain hand baths begin to scrap against the tiled floor, opening up to a dark downward tunnel. Unable to see too far down she turns to Ron.

“We just slide down” offers Ron as if reading her mind and sitting down in the top of the tunnel. “Here’s hoping the Basilisk didn’t have any babies hey,” says Ron before disappearing out of sight. Into the dark tunnel 

Sitting on the cold porcelain slide as did Ron just before her, Hermione holds her breath in anticipation of the unknown as she pushes herself down the slide. The wind rushes and swooshes through her hair and around her ears, she can’t help but squeal as she glides with haste down the slippery tunnel. 

Landing with a thump Hermione finds herself at the end of a long, wet and poorly lit chamber. Large towering marble pillars entwined with serpents rise to a ceiling lost to darkness. Hermione shivers just ahead of her lies the skeleton of the Basaliks. It’s mouth full of sharp penetrating teeth, Hermione marvels at the size of the teeth, as they make their way towards the skull of the giant snake. The teeth are almost as long as her arm. She cannot even being to image how Harry, a small 12 year old confronted with this beast felt let alone managed to defeat.

Carefully she grips a tooth and dislodges it from the open mouth of the Basilisk with a crack 

From beneath his jacket, Ron produces Hufflepuff s Cup “You do it Hermione,” says Ron offering her the cup

Gripping the hard yellow tooth in her hand, she places the cup on the damp ground. She looks to Ron just once before raising her arm up high and stabbing the cup with the sharp tooth. 

A gut-wrenching, ear-piercing shriek echoes around the chambers, chilling her blood. She drops the fang and covers her ears. The watches mouth open as the heirloom cup shakes violently against the marble floor. Small cracks form, a slow black blood-like substance seeps out oozing onto the chamber floor, and then stops. Her heart pounding hard, she stares at the broken artefact. She has destroyed a Horcrux. 

“Well, that’s another one down.” Says Ron “You don’t happen to have a broom in that bag of yours do you?”

“Actually”

“You have a broom,” asks Ron in amazement 

“There was one at the Inn so I grabbed it while Harry and Aberforth were arguing” 

“You’re bloody brilliant.” says Ron” I’m serious, you are brilliant.” Ron's voice suddenly softer “Hermione I...”. 

“We better get back to Harry,” Hermione says swiftly. “He could be in trouble,” 

“Yep. Of course” says Ron disappointment evident In his eyes 

Slipping on to the broom behind Ron, she hangs on tightly as they fly high into the darkness away from the Basalik skeleton, now missing a few extra teeth, and away from the chamber. 

Landing with another thump they race down the passageway towards the Ravenclaw Tower they almost collide directly into Seamus and Dean. A panicked look on their faces 

"What’s going on?"

We have to get to the Great Hall, everyone is there. They are looking for Harry, there’s Death Eaters around."

“And you know who” 

“Let’s go.” 

The soles of her feet beat against the stone floor, the cool evening air irritating her throat and lungs as she inhales deeply. She can hear the boys panting with the effort to get to the Great Hall, her legs feel on fire but still, she races on its all or nothing. Gasping for air they arrive at the large towering doors of the Great Hall

“Try and slip in behind us so they don’t see you” pants Seamus. 

Standing behind Seamus and Dean, to Hermione’s surprise it was easier than she thought it would be to enter the Great Hall undetected. All students were standing facing forward towards Professor Snape, who was in deep conversation with another professor she was unsure of who it was. 

“That’s Professor Slughorn” whispers Dean behind “He’s the Slytherin head” 

The enchanted ceiling darker than she had ever seen is sprinkled with bright stars. dishevelled students, some in travelling cloaks, others in dressing gowns all desperate to find out why they had been summoned here in the dead of the night stand upright. Translucent figures of the school ghosts float here and there. 

Without provocation, the Gryffindor students discretely part, opening up a clean passage and swallowing both Ron and Hermione to the center of their group concealing them from clear sight. Harry is already here, wearing a cloak to assist with his disguise. His fists are clenched, anger permeating from his skin and directed towards one person Professor Snape please don’t do anything rash thinks Hermione stay calm 

Hermione’s eyes are drawn to the Slytherin congregation, scanning the sea of green and silver. Her heart still thundering against her chest, her breath catches, the blood drains from her skin, her pulse quickens even faster as she finally spies the rich raven hair of Pansy Parkinson. 

Instinctively she begins to straighten her shirt, preening herself for their first encounter since that night they shared. Her eyes cast down Parkinson’s body, instantly lighting that tingling sensation in the pit of her belly, as she takes in Parkinson’s perfect curves, but another emotion starts to surface one she can’t quite place. She looks good thinks Hermione too good. 

Casting a quick glance at her housemates, she sees scratches, bruises, their hair not perfect, nor their robes, proof that they have been in a battle of their own. Hermione herself now conscious that her clothes are dirty and far too big for her, from months of surviving on rations, her hair messier than usual, and her own body marred with bruises and scratches. Parkinson looks perfect, her clothes are pristine, her hair shimmers from the light of the candles. She has avoided any conflict. This has not been hard for her in any way. An odd combination of resentment and lust swirl and mingle in Hermione’s, she too clenches her fist she equally wants to slap Parkinson and snog her senseless. 

The low dangerous voice of Professor Snape echos draws her attention, refocussing her to the task at hand.

“You may be wondering why I have called you here. It's come to my attention that earlier this evening Harry Potter was sighted at Hogsmeade and now potentially here at Hogwarts. His beady black eyes scanning the room Now... should anyone, attempt to aid Mr. Potter, they will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their transgression. Furthermore, any person found to have knowledge of these events, who fails to come forward, will be treated as equally guilty. Anyone care to come forward?

Her throat catches, as she expected Harry steps forward from the Gryffindor students 

“Since you asked so nicely” says Harry his voice laced with anger 

A rumbling of gasps and shocked yelps escape the students. 

Quick as a snake both Snape and Harry draw their wands, green eyes versus black lock onto each other. But to Hermione’s surprise, faster than Hermione had ever seen Professor McGonagall move, her beloved Professors wand slashes and swirls through the air in the protection of Harry. 

“I don’t think so Severus ”

Students gasp and press tightly against the wall as a ring of fire, filling half the size of the great hall, flies towards Snape like a lasso. It is instantly transformed into a giant black vicious serpent, fangs as big as a Basilisk charge at Professor McGonagall which she blasts into a smoke and turns into a plethora of tiny daggers directed back towards Snape, but his reflexes are quick and so the daggers are reversed heading towards Professor McGonagall at an unstoppable speed. 

“NO! Yells Professor Sprout, her wand raised producing a bright blue shield to Professor McGonagall. 

The daggers crash and clank against the shield.

Hermione can only watch in awe as her professor's duel, her heart beating furiously. 

“You’ll do no more damage at Hogwarts!” squeals Professor Flitwick casting a spell towards the armor near Snape, that with a clink and clatter comes to life to grasp and grab at Snape. Somehow he struggles free sending the armor towards the professors smashing into a wall nearby. 

Hermione watches in dismay as Snape takes flight, smashing through the leadlight glass behind the Professors table. 

“Coward! COWARD!”

Hermione hears Professor McGonagall cry out

The sound of loud jubilations ricochet off the stone walls. Students from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor high five each other, with only the Slytherin’s remaining silent.  
Their joy and celebrations are short-lived however as a cold, controlled, high pitched voice echoes throughout the Hall, sending shivers down Hermione’s spine. Students look around frantically, some clutching each other in fear as they try to find the source. 

Hermione catches Harry grasp at his scar, his eyes shut tight. Instantly she moves towards his side. 

"I know that you are preparing to fight." says the voice 

Students scream and clasp tightly to each other in terror. 

"Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers at Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

The Hall falls silent, waiting. You could hear the shallow fearful breaths of each student

"Give me Harry Potter," says Voldemort's voice, "and you shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

Silence covers the Great Hall, every head turns to Harry. Hermione’s heart catches in her throat as she sees a figure come forward from the Slytherin ranks, it’s Parkinson. As if in slow motion Hermione holds her breath as she as watches Parkinson raise a shaking arm and screams, "But he's there! Potter's there. Someone grab him!"

Blood thunders through Hermione’s veins in anger. Instinctively she raises her wand pointing it directly at Parkinson. Their eyes lock into each other, her stomach somersaults but still she stands resolved. Parkinson’s eyes open wide only now registering that Hermione is also back at Hogwarts. Her blood pounds in her ears, she grips her wand tightly, she will protect Harry and this cause no matter what. 

Eyes still focussed Hermione hears a massive movement, The Gryffindors have moved beside her, facing the Slytherins. Then the Hufflepuffs joined, and almost at the same moment, the Ravenclaws, all of them looking towards Pansy, with wands in hand. 

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson," says Professor McGonagall in a clipped voice. "You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your House could follow."

Hermione’s knuckles white as she grips her wand tightly, anger overtaking all other emotions. The grinding of benches and sound of the Slytherins trooping out of the Hall a distant noise as her eyes remain focused on Parkinson, even as she feels someone, Ginny, take her free hand and squeeze it gently offering support. 

Her heart jolts as Parkinson stops momentarily at the doors to the Great Hall. Hope that Parkinson has decided to fight, fight for what’s right, fight for good, maybe fight for her, builds in her chest only to come crashing down as Parkinson turns ever so slightly casting her eyes from Hermione’s face to her pointed wand and her hand being held by Ginny before turning back and exiting the Great Hall. 

Ginny squeezes Hermione’s hand again, concern written all over her face. 

“We need to focus. What Professor McGonagall saying” says Hermione brushing off Ginny’s sympathetic look and turning to her Professor 

The words of Professor McGonagall a blur as she tries to suppress the urge to break down and cry, Parkinson’s actions creating a mirror to the emotions Hermione felt when Ron left her and Harry, but at least Ron came back. Hermione doubted very much that Parkinson would come back and fight. 

"...evacuation will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madame Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organise your House and take your charges in an orderly fashion to the evacuation point.” 

"And what if we want to stay and fight?" shouts someone to Hermione’s left 

"If you are of age, you may stay," says Professor McGonagall

Whispers and murmurs spread across the students. 

"The important thing is to get you out of here safely. Ravenclaws, follow on!" calls out Professor McGonagall.

One by one the houses begin to evacuate the Hall, no Slytherins were left, a few older Ravenclaw and even more Hufflepuffs remained while well over half of Gryffindors remained ready for battle.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” says Hermione making her way out of the Great Hall. The air feeling thick like hard to breathe - she needs just one moment to gather her emotions. 

“Hermione” she hears Ginny and Harry call out in unison

“Just going to the bathroom. Can hardly fight in a full bladder now can I” she tries to joke in an attempt to disguise her hurt and anguish “I’ll be fine, back in a minute ” Just a moment, I need just a moment to catch my breath and then I’ll go back. Voldemort said we had until midnight she thinks 

Her temples throb, tears threaten to spill from her eyes, the sound of her own breathing her only company as she makes her way down the passage to the nearest bathroom.  
Her heart sinks I was nothing more than a distraction, a means to forget all of this. That insecure thought that perhaps this was part of a bigger plan to distract her to somehow get her out of the way begins to niggle to the surface again. There’s no doubt Harry would not trust her if he knew that she had slept with Parkinson. Her mind swarms with half-formed regrets of the night they shared.

I’m an idiot Hermione chastises herself did I really think Parkinson, pure-blood Parkinson, Pansy bloody “I don’t want to die, for anyone or anything” Parkinson would really stay behind. Go against everything she was raised to believe and probably does believe in. It was all just a rouse to forget to distract her for a moment. 

A crescendo of anger begins to swirl threatening to burst out from her chest. Cursing her stupidity for letting her guard down, her anger peaks as she replays the moment in her mind Parkinson tried to send her best friend to his death. 

Hermione gasps, her blood freezes for a mere split second, a hand has appeared from nowhere and tightened on her wrist. White-knuckled, fist clenched, she turns to fight, to lash out and defend herself. 

“It’s me. it’s me” comes a panicked cry with hands up in surrender 

A moment of shock her fist hangs in midair. The face before her refuelling her already rising anger She could actually hex her. 

“What the hell are you doing here Parkinson” spits Hermione “shouldn’t you be nestled somewhere safe and sound with your fellow snakes or out there she points with the Death Eaters 

“I...” 

“Well?” challenges Hermione her anger bursting through veins 

“Spit it out”

Blood pulsating in her ears, she doesn’t hear the footsteps down the passage that Parkinson has heard. She catches Parkinson looking frantically down the hall. 

“Quick, in here,” says Parkinson half reaching for Hermione’s hand but thinking better if it “Alohorma,” says Parkinson pointing towards a wooden door 

Now hearing the footsteps herself, reluctantly she follows Parkinson. 

The room is and filled with a familiar damp smell. 

Lumios says Parkinson lighting the room 

Oh, the irony thinks Hermione what a cruel bloody joke. Surrounded by shelves filled with cleaning products, rags, a mop, and bucket tucked in the very near corner, Hermione knows this room too well, It's Filch's supply cupboard.

“Well, Parkinson?” she says doing her best to ignore her surrounding and the memories it threatens to bring to the surface 

“I...I...” stumbles Parkinson under Hermione’s intense gaze

Hermione knows Parkinson is struggling but driven by anger she can’t force herself to care 

“Spit it out you numpty,” says Hermione

“I...” 

“You tried to send Harry to his slaughter” Fires of fury smouldering in her brown eyes,

“I don’t want...” 

“I know Parkinson” says Hermione holding up her hand. “You don’t want to die, not for anyone or anything. Her chest heaving “You are selfish, self-serving, you care for nothing but your precious self and...and I’m leaving.” says Hermione turning from Parkinson 

“I don’t want YOU to die” Parkinson practically yells out 

The rawness in the words halting Hermione in her tracks. It takes a second or two for the new information to sink it, her brain unable to formulate thoughts. Overcome with the power of the sincerity in what Parkinson said Hermione is unable to move, she cares is all Hermione’s mind is able to ascertain

With her back turned to Parkinson “I don’t want you to die” she hears Parkinson whisper again 

A hand reaches for her arm, slowly forcing her to turn and face Parkinson once again.

The brown in Parkinson’s eyes shine brightly as tears begin to fill the brim, instantly extinguishing the fury burning deep in Hermione 

“I don’t want you to die” whispers Parkinson as she steps closer to Hermione.

As if approaching a wild animal Parkinson slowly and tentatively lifts her hand to Hermione’s cheek “I don’t want you to die” she softly repeats 

Like being stun by the Petrificus Totalus spell, Hermione stands petrified to the spot, her heart drumming against her chest as Parkinson slowly leans and cautiously leans in, gently kissing Hermione on the other cheek “I don’t want you to die” Parkinson repeats as her lip slowly trace down towards Hermione’s lips, grazing them ever so gently “I don’t want you to die” she murmurs again before their lips meet. 

Parkinson’s kiss is soft, but it burns hotter than a thousand suns. The very cells in her body calling out to Parkinson as they remember the electrifying sensation Parkinson caused last time they met. Hermione’s instinctively pulls Parkinson closer to her. Her body boiling with desire. Hermione can’t suppress a deep moan as Parkinson breaks from their kiss to slowly nibble and lick at her neck all the while murmuring over and over “I don’t want you to die” 

Mindlessly she arches into Parkinson’s touch as her hand begins to trail up and under Hermione’s jumper leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Her whole body awake to the attention of Parkinson’s fingers as she gently pinches and rolls Hermione’s nipples. The sensation sending tingling pleasure down her entire body concentrating around her core, the spot where her body aches the most for Parkinson’s magical touch. Shivers race down her spine as Parkinson’s hand slides down Hermione’s torso, stopping for a mere moment before snapping open the button of her jeans. Hermione's body thrumming desperate for Parkinson’s touch as Parkinson’s hand slowly heads down to the top of her underwear. 

“Leave here” Hermione hears Parkinson whisper 

“What?” she pants

“There’s other who can fight. It’s not worth it. You might die” whispers Parkinson still nibbling and licking at Hermione’s neck 

The words chilling instantly, her body tenses against Parkinson’s touch. She cannot runway, she doesn’t want to run and hide. She wants to fight for the greater good, for what’s right. By not standing up for what’s right, you might as well be fighting with the Death Eaters, supporting their prejudices, supporting all. The atrocities that have occurred and will occur and worse, people will be persecuted for nothing more than their blood status. . The realisation that Parkinson only wants what is good for her, squeezes at her heart. She is selfish and will never understand how important it is to stand for what is good thinks Hermione 

With the palm of her hands, Hermione forcefully pushes hard against the chest of a shocked Parkinson. 

“You just don’t get it do you?” she says to a stunned Parkinson.

Her trembling heart feeling as if it's being squeezed and squashed 

“Some things are worth dying for Parkinson,” says Hermione before turning and rushing out of the room, leaving a dazed Parkinson alone in the cleaners cupboard


	14. Room of Requirement

A dark cloud of sadness hangs over Hermione. She feels hollow as if the very wind has been sapped from her. She is unable to comprehend how someone could just choose to sit on the sidelines and do nothing while others were in pain. 

The urge to cry is there but the hot tears are not. She won't cry. She refuses to curl up and cry, not when there is so much at stake. 

She would rather die than accept someone’s dystopian views. She knows she will be a key target, after all, she is Harry Potter’s best friend and that makes her a high profile muggleborn. But she doesn’t care, she will die for what’s right, and now that the battle is on their doorstep, and so real, she stands firm in her resolve _I will die for what’s right,_ she tells herself.   It is one thing to say you will die for something, but to be faced with potential death and still stand resolute makes her feel powerful, almost invincible. It’s amazing how when you let go of all other thoughts and accept death as an option you no longer fear it. If only Parkinson could accept that this is bigger than just her.

“Hermione. Hermione” her name echoes down the corridor.

Turning swiftly she sees Harry and Ron racing towards her, the look on their faces instantly pushing aside her thoughts and feelings on Parkinson. 

“Harry. What’s happened?” she asks

“I know where it is. I know where the Ravenclaw Horcrux is” Harry shouts in glee “We have to get to the Room of Requirement. Now” he says racing towards the seventh floor.

They race and push past students many who were huddled together crying, a sheer look of terror on their faces. 

“They are evacuating them through to Hogsmeade, I showed them some of the exit points from the map” shouts Harry as the door to the Room of Requirement approaches before them

As Harry opens the door to the Room, Hermione almost crashes directly into Professor Lupin, the Room is filled with faces she had not seen in such a long time. Lupin looks at her as does Kingsley, Oliver Wood Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, Bill and Fleur, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Seeing such familiar faces especially those of her surrogate mother and father Mrs. and Mr. Weasley fills her with hope. Hope that they may actually have a chance to defeat Voldemort.

“Mum, Dad” shouts Ron running into the giant open hug of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley

“What are you all doing here?” blurts out Harry “How did you know what was happening”

‘We sent messages to the rest of Dumbledore’s Army,’ Fred explains brightly holding up an enchanted coin between his fingers. It was the fake Galleon Hermione has created to inform members of Dumbledore's Army when the next meeting would take place the years previous

“They let Aberforth know who let the Order of the Phoenix know, and it all kind of happened from there.” chipped in George

“You couldn’t expect everyone to miss the fun now, could you? says Fred smiling mischievously

“What’s happening?” asks Lupin

‘The Professors are barricading the school, they’re evacuating the younger kids and everyone’s meeting in the Great Hall to get organised,’ says Harry. ‘Voldemort is here, he’s waiting until midnight.  He wants me.

“Over my dead body” says Fred

“And mine” says George “There’s going to be a fight”

There was a great surge towards them,  that nearly made Hermione lose her balance and fall to the floor. Members of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army all with their wands drawn, race out of the Room of Requirement, towards the Great Hall to strategise and prepare for battle, leaving just the three of them in the Room. 

“Ok let’s step outside and re-enter” says, Harry

“Harry, are you sure it’s in the Room of Requirement?” asks Hermione worryingly “What exactly are we looking for”

“Yes.  I know it is. I remember seeing it and It’s Rowena Ravenclaw’s Diadem”

“Ravenclaws Diadem?  But no one knows where that is...”

“Ah” chimes in Ron “No living persons knows, there’s a ghost that knows it very well” says Ron pointing his finger up knowingly, proud to know something Hermione didn’t “Harry spoke to the Gray Lady”

“The Gray Lady” repeats Hermione

“Yep. Rowena Ravenclaw’s daughter, apparently” informs Ron  

“We haven’t got time” snapped Harry “it’s nearly midnight”

A door appears the third time Harry walks past the Room of Requirement. Hermione holds her breath, she hopes against all odds the Diadem would be sitting proudly alone in the centre of the room. Easy for them to retrieve and destroy especially with the handful of Basilisk fangs she had in her bag.  Any sparkle of hope that this would be easy to quickly crumbles away as she follows Harry into the room.

The Room was overwhelmingly huge, almost if not bigger than a Quidditch arena. Items upon items of objects hidden by hundreds perhaps thousands of students over the years line the room from wall to wall, piles of items towering well above them like skyscrapers. Chairs, weapons, broomsticks, bats, cauldrons, desks, a quidditch ring, and everything else imaginable stand in their path to the Diadem

“Bloody Hell,” says Ron “Where do we even start?”

“I think it’s down here” says Harry “this is where I remember going down to hide my potions book”

 _“My” potions book_ thinks Hermione, _it was hardy your potions book._ She knows it petty and now is not the time to be concerned with this, but she is still a little peeved that the only reason Harry did so well in the potions class was because he stumbled across a book, that altered potion formulas they were supposed to be following.  It was an unfair advantage, although she wouldn’t mind having an unfair advantage right now as they look for the Diadem

They speed off up an aisle, being sure not to bump into items that might cause the mountain of junk to tumble and fall on them.

“Somewhere near here,” she hears Harry muttering to himself. “Somewhere . . . somewhere . . .”

Hermione stops in her tracks grabbing Ron by the sleeve “Harry” she whispers as loud as she can halting him in his tracks” hear that”.

They all strain their ears. Simultaneously they look at each other. Footsteps they can hear other footsteps not their own.

“Quick. Let’s move” says Harry

Deeper and deeper in the maze they ventured hoping above all they retrieve the Diadem and don’t bump into whoever else is in the Room. . 

Hermione collides into the back of Harry, who has stopped suddenly. She notices him shiver, his eyes focussed ahead

“Harry. What is it” says Hermione worryingly

Following his gaze, Hermione lets out a gasp. A scratched old cupboard lies ahead, on top of it is a stone warlock wearing a dusty old wig and what looked like an ancient discoloured tiara - the Diadem.

She waits with baited breath as Harry steps forward, arm stretched, ready to grasp the Diadem.

“Hold it, Potter.”

Hermione spins around drawing her wand ready to defend or attack whichever came first. Her back stiffens.  Crabbe and Goyle are standing behind them, their own wands pointed at the trio. From just over their shoulder she spies the sneering face of Draco Malfoy.

“That’s my wand you’ve got there, Potter,” say Malfoy, pointing a wand through the gap between Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione casts a sideway glance at greyish brown wand in Harry’s hand.  He had explained to her that during their escape from Malfoy Manor, he had acquired Malfoy’s wand during a scuffle between the two. 

 “Not anymore,” says Harry, tightening his grip on the hawthorn wand. “It’s mine now. Who’s lent you theirs?”

Hermione grips her own wand tightly, her heart beats against her chest, they need to get the Diadem. 

“My mother,” says Draco.

And when Harry laughs out loud she could have actually whacked him across the back of the head. _Why would Harry antagonise him? Not now they were so close to getting the Diadem, they needed to avoid unnecessary confrontation and stick to the task._

“So how come you three aren’t with Voldemort?” asks Harry.

“We’re gonna be rewarded,” says Crabbe “We ‘ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to in.”

“Interesting plan,” says Harry mockingly

It occurs to Hermione that Harry is trying to edge closer to the Horcrux. _He’s trying to distract them_ thinks Hermione _so he can get the Diadem before any wayward spell accidentally knocks it into the clutter of items_

“So how did you get in here?” asks Hermione. Harry gives her a sideways appreciative glance as he edges further towards the Diadem.

“You’re not the only one that knows things, Granger” spits Malfoy

“We were hiding in the corridor outside,” grunts Goyle. “We can do Diss-lusion Charms now!” his face split into a big wide toothy grin, “you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What’s a die-dum?”

“You wouldn’t understand, even if I did explain it slowly and with diagrams for you” says Harry

Goyle’s face twist and reddens in anger. Harry’s words obviously offending him. With his wand pointed at the mountain of books, trunks, furniture and all other imaginable items he shouts “Descendo!”

The wall of items began to tip and tumble towards the trio. Quick as a whip, Hermione points her wand and flips the tumbling items from the top of the mountain to the left of them

“Finite” cries Harry starring the remaining stumbling wall of items

“No!” shouts Malfoy, grabbing Goyle’s arm, to stop him from casting another spell... “If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!”

“What’s that matter?” says Crabbe. “It’s Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?”

“Merlín. Potter came in here to get it,” says Malfoy. “so that must mean –“

“’Must mean’?” Crabbe turns on Malfoy viciously. “Who cares what you think anyhow? I don’t take your orders no more, Draco. You an’ your dad are finished.”

“You’re family are nothin’ Draco” echoes Goyle “the Dark Lord, isn’t happy with you lot is he?”

“Yeah, he might not keep you Malfoy’s around much longer” laughs Crabb “you’re not his favourite anymore”

Both Crabbe and Goyle laugh that menacing evil laugh. Malfoy is unable to keep the worried expression from his face. 

Turning to Hermione “drop your wands you're done for.” demands Crabbe The Dark Lord is too good for ya” 

“It’s not going to be that easy,” says Ron standing tall and poised for action

“Drop it” growls Goyle getting himself into an attack stance too

“Not going to happen”

All six students stand facing each other, a standoff of wills. There is no way either grouping will lower their wands, there is only one way this confrontation will end and that is with hexes flying.

Sizing up her opponents, Hermione sees their eyes flicker to Harry, he is their prize. Hermione keeps her face unreadable, calculating the best form of attack. If they know disillusionment charms now, what other spells including no doubt dark spells and hexes have they been taught? She catches Malfoy looking over her shoulder, something has caught his eye, that characteristic sneer returning to his pointed features.

“Lower your wands“

Hermione whips her head around, the voice has come from behind them. Her heart bolts to her throat. They are surrounded. She stands frozen in wide-eyed disbelief.  Standing behind her, Harry and Ron is Parkinson with wand raised and pointed.

Laughing loud “You eard her” says Crabbe a smile of size of dinner plate plastered to his face “drop them”

 “You’re done for now? You’re surrounded” says Goyle

Feeling dizzy Hermione can’t believe Parkinson has chosen to fight. Her heart crumbles into a myriad of pieces at the thought that she has chosen to fight for the dark side. Parkinson’s presence is creating a hurricane of emotions that twist and swirl in the pit of her belly, hurt, sadness, but mostly her deep seeded anger is surfacing with such vengeance it takes every ounce of constraint not to hex Parkinson right on the spot. _No wonder she was adamant that Hermione leaves, she didn’t want a challenge_ thinks Hermione _I’m better than her, this was all a rouse to get me out of the picture._

 “Vincent, Gregory. Please” pleads Parkinson as she steps cautiously forward 

Her plea takes everyone by surprise including Hermione. Harry and Ron look at each other in utter disbelief, while Hermione just stares at Parkinson now realising that she has asked her Slytherin comrades, her friends, to lower their weapons. Hermione stands rooted to the spot in complete amazement at how this woman can make her feel such diverse emotions in a matter of seconds. She will actually drive her crazy. 

 “Huh” says Goyle it takes him a few extra moments to register that Parkinson is talking to them. It is only when Parkinson is standing almost in line with Hermione but still a good distance away that they realise she is talking to her Slytherin housemates. 

 “You’re a blood traitor?” says Goyle slowly he is genuinely confused and hurt by Parkinson’s actions. Hermione can tell his perfect little world filled with Pureblood happiness is crumbling around him.

”Our friends are getting hurt. Marcus is hurt. Tracy is hurt.” There’s genuine sadness and worry in Parkinson’s tone. 

The battle has started. Hermione looks at Harry, her chest constricting in anguish. The look on his face says what she is thinking, they need to get the Diadem, destroy it and get out of here and go help their family and friends. If Slytherin’s are hurt how many on their side are hurt too.

 “Casualties are expected if we are to succeed,” says Crabbe. It is obviously a rehearsed line that they have been brainwashed into believing. It’s the nicest way of saying, you are just a pawn and in this war, your lives do not matter.

 “Tabitha Babridge is also hurt” says Parkinson

The news strikes a nerve with Crabbe,  Hermione can see the stronghold he had on his wand is wavering, his. eyebrows knitting together as he tries to solve this conflicting emotional puzzle that is running in him. _He must like Tabitha a lot_ concludes Hermione. Tabitha is a petite blonde girl, Hermione did not have a lot of interactions with. She only knew her a quiet girl that never said much, she seemed nice enough if you take a Slytherin not hexing them as being nice. She was one of those students who doesn’t really make an impression one way or another. 

“He will take what he wants” says Parkinson “At anyone’s expense”

 “But we’ll give him Potter,” says Goyle still standing firm wand pointed directly at them

Hermione senses Harry move closer to the Diadem, her eyes are firmly fixed on the Slytherin trio. There is no telling what they will do

 “You said it yourself,” says Parkinson “he’s turned on the Malfoy’s so quickly, his most loyal followers. How long before he turns on one of us, our family, our mothers?”

Malfoy tenses anger burning in his grey eyes, while Hermione notices Goyle’s eyes begin to soften, his resolute now wavering too. His love and need to protect his mother an obvious trigger. _Oh, she’s good_ thinks Hermione. With those few sentences, Parkinson has been able to cast doubt in three of the most steadfast Pureblood loyalist.

The three Slytherin’s stand huddled together in deep contemplation. In their hesitation, Harry has grasped at the opportunity and lunged at the Diadem. His actions taking the Slytherin’s by surprise, they react on their first instinct which is to attack. 

“Crucio” yells Crabbe

Parkinson shrieks and hides behind a pile of items, not wanting to be hit by a stray curse. Thankfully Crabbe’s curse misses Harry, instead of hitting the cupboard the Diadem was resting on. The Diadem soars into the air, Harry with his lightning fast Seeker reflexes jumps high hand extended reaching for the Horcrux, and for the first time he misses. The Diadem landing somewhere in the pile of junk near them

“STOP!” Shouts Malfoy at Crabbe. “The Dark Lord wants him alive –“

 “So? Crucio won't kill. I’m not killing him, am I?” yells Crabbe, pulling away from Malfoy “But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what’s the diff – ?”

 “Stupefy” shouts Hermione a jet of scarlet shoots from her wand towards Crabbe, narrowly missing him because Malfoy pulls him away.

 “You bloody Mudblood” yells Crabbe “Avada Kedavra!”

A green light shoots towards Hermione, she dives out of its way and in the opposite direction of Parkinson who is kneeling behind another wardrobe, a panicked look on her face. This is everything she wanted to avoid.

 “You’re dead” shouts Ron shooting forceful stunning spell towards Crabbe who lunges out of the way, knocking Malfoy’s wand out of his hand in the process and under some rubble of junk. 

“Don’t kill him! DON’T KILL HIM!” Malfoy yells at Crabbe and Goyle, who are now aiming their wands at Harry.  Malfoy’s words causing them to hesitate.

 “Expelliarmus!” yells Harry his spell causing Goyle’s wand to fly from his hands

Hermione casts another Stunning Spell towards the Slytherin trio hitting Goyle square in the chest. Ron shoots a full Body-Bind Curse at Crabbe but misses. Items crash and smash around them as stray spells miss their intended target and collide with the plethora of items in the Room.

Harry dives to Hermione’s side “it’s just over there” pants Harry pointing to a small pile of items “Go look for it, I’ll keep them busy”

Before she can move, there is a roaring, billowing noise behind her turning she sees both Ron and Crabb running as fast as they can up the aisle towards them

 “Like it hot?” yells Crabbe as he runs, but his cockiness soon turns to terror as he is unable to control what he has created.

Mammoth flames chase them, dancing and twisting hungrily devouring everything in their path. 

 “Aguamenti!” screams Harry. It’s futile the water shooting from his wand disappearing before it even gets near the flame.  It’s a cursed flame.

She sees Malfoy lunge and with all his might drag the stunned Goyle with him. _Parkinson, where’s Parkinson_ panics Hermione. Her breath hitches the spot Parkinson was kneeling now empty. Hermione looks around frantically, she cannot see Parkinson anywhere. .

 “RUN!” screams Harry pulling her by the arm

The fire pursues them with vengeance, as they duck and weave down the aisles

 “It’s chasing us” yells Ron 

Hermione screams. The fire has mutated into depictions of fiery animals, dragons serpents and other hideously fanged creatures tower above them swallowing all in their wake. Items are flung into the air landing in their fanged mouths and beneath their feet. 

Fear inescapable as the inferno nears them, leaving a wake of destruction. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle vanish down an aisle. Still unable to see or hear Parkinson she runs and hopes against all odds Parkinson is ok. 

Claws, horned tails, fangs lash and thrash about them, encircling them into a fiery wall,

 “There” yells Harry racing forward and grabbing some antique brooms throwing them at her and Ron. She hesitates for a split second. She’s never been a huge fan of flying, not like the boys. But the roar of the fire echoing in her ears and the feel of the searing heat near her skin urges her to jump on. She not confident on the broom, her knuckles grip the shaft of the wood tightly. With a hard kick, she soars up towards Ron and Harry. Fiery jaws snap at them, narrowly missing the tail of her broom. 

Thick billows of smoke sting her eyes as she looks desperately for Parkinson, but she cannot see her. She watches Harry sweep as low as he could without being swallowed by the inferno. Was he looking for the Diadem? Surely that would be impossible

 “Harry” yells Ron “let’s go”

 “I hear them” yells Harry back swooping towards the flames

 “It’s – too – dangerous – !” yells Ron

Flying faster and steadier than she ever has before Hermione chases after Harry, he has heard cries for help. _Please. Please let it be Parkinson. Please let it be Parkinson_ she prays repeatedly

The flames thunder below them devouring everything. Thick black smoke burns her eyes but still, she persists, hanging on tightly following Harry.  Harry swoops down swiftly, he’s seen, someone. Her stomach drops, all hope that it is Parkinson plummets instantly when she spots what Harry has seen. Crabbe and Malfoy with his arms wrapped around Goyle perched precariously on an unstable tower of flame licked desks.

Malfoy raises his arm to Harry, but slips from Harry’s grasp.  Goyle and Malfoy are too heavy for Harry. Crabbe raises his arm too, but Hermione can’t bring herself to reach out to help Crabbe, he’s the one who started this inferno, he’s the reason that Parkinson is somewhere trapped in this fiery mess, scared alone and in danger.   

 “Help get Goyle onto my broom” yells Hermione “make sure he’s balanced”

 “IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I’LL KILL YOU, HARRY! I’LL KILL YOU BOTH” roars Ron’s helping Malfoy hoist Goyle on Hermione’s broom

Her broom dips instantly from the weight of Goyle dangling bent at the waist over the broomstick.

 “Colloshoo” says Hermione casting a sticking spell at Goyle so he doesn’t slide off into the flames.  

Crabbe clambers onto the back of Ron's broom. Hope that they will find Parkinson disappearing into the thick smoke as the horny tail of the inferno beast towering above them comes crashing down smashing and engulfing the table they were just on. 

They fly off into the air, ducking and weaving from the flames. Hermione looks frantically about in anguish hoping to see Parkinson, she strains her ears against the roar of the fire desperately trying to hear something that resembles a human call for help, but the roar of the flames engulf any hope. Her insides are dying with every second that passes.   _Where is Parkinson_. She never wanted this, yes she wanted Parkinson to fight to stand for something but she never wanted her to die. Hermione never expected that she might.

The smoke overwhelming, crushing her lungs making it hard to breathe they need to get out of here

“Get to the door” she hears Malfoy scream to Harry “what are you doing”

Harry is diving down again as Malfoy screams like an unearthed Mandrake, for a split second Hermione’s hope that he had seen Parkinson peaks but instantly crashes down as she realises Harry has seen the Diadem. She watches him dive and scoops up the Diadem in one swift movement.

Something in the corner of her eye catches her attention. She sees a flash of black hair racing down a cluttered aisle, the hungry flames chasing her down. 

 “She’s over there” yells Hermione

Lowering herself she makes to speed towards the running figure, but she can’t get the momentum, the weight of Goyle on the broom is slowing her down. She tries to thrust forward with all her might as the fiery inferno swishes and engulfs like a raging river below her. The black smoke is thick, crushing her lungs, choking her, the last few objects unburned by the hungry flames shoot past her, as the fiery beasts cast them into the air. She tries with all her might to speed up but Parkinson is out of reach, beside her are now Harry and Ron intent on helping her. 

 _Not far now_ she tells herself, extending her arm to Parkinson, who is still running down the aisle. 

 “Hermione” call out Harry and Ron at the same time.

Harry grabs the front of her broom thrusting her off course and away from Parkinson and the head of a sharp-toothed blazing dragon that has risen like an explosion of lava from beneath, lunging and snapping its gigantic jaws blocking her from Parkinson.

 “PANSY” screams Hermione her hand still outstretched.

 “We have to go” yells Harry still grasping the front of her broom leading her towards a rectangle in the wall.

The smoke stings and burns her eyes, as she frantically looks back in search for Parkinson. The ferocious body of flames ruthlessly engulfing all that is left below, all she can see is a sea of vicious and violent flames as the beasts cheer and ravage item below. A final ear shattering explosion thrusts her forward through the door. She sees Parkinson no more. 


	15. Pansy

Crashing into the stone wall in the corridor, Hermione gasps for fresh air and coughs so hard she feels she may vomit. Tears stream down her face, her eyes sting bitterly from the smoke. The door to the Room of Requirement has disappeared. The boys lay face down on the floor panting and coughing. Her lungs burn as she desperately sucks in another breath of clean air, her tongue dry, the world around her moving in slow motion as the oxygen slowly seeps back into her body. 

Rolling onto her hands and knees, through the smokey veil clouding her eyes she barely sees the blackened faces and charred clothing of the boys. She crawls slowly still coughing hard towards Harry and Ron. She needs to see that they are ok, she couldn’t bear it if they were hurt too. She needs them near her now, as she comes to terms with what just transpired. 

Reaching out “Harry” she pants her throat hurts, her energy is spent 

“P-P-Pansy” chokes out Crabbe “Who got Pansy out? Who got her out?” His words laced with panic

Like fingernails dragging down a blackboard, the sound of Crabbe’s voice irritates her beyond measure. Your fault. This is all your fault thinks Hermione. 

Hate and loathing swelling up in her heart, fury burning in her veins, so deep it was seeping into her very soul. As furious as the fire they had just escaped, as dangerous as erupting boiling magma, hatred like she had never known before bellows from her 

“virgines strangulari” she growls out through gritted teeth 

A yellow stream of light shoots from her wand, slithering and encircling Crabbe’s waist, then chest and finally to his throat. Like a slow-moving snake, the yellow vine-like jets of light slowly wrap and constrict tighter and tighter.  
Crabbe grasps and pulls at the light, his fingers unable to penetrate the tightly coiling vine. His legs thrash, pushing and slipping against the floor in desperation. Furiously grasping for air his eyes bulge from his rotund face staring, screaming silently to her pleading for her to stop.  
He tries to pry the tendrils around his neck away but he is slowly losing consciousness. Small ragged gasps escaping his throat as he grasps and struggles for that precious life-giving air that was eluding his lungs. And still, the yellow light tightens slowly sapping the air from Crabbe. 

“Hermione” someone calls to her. The voice nothing more than a distant noise in the background as she focuses her anger into the one person who has caused her Parkinson to perish

Hate burns in her heart. Her chest clenches, dizzy with confusion Parkinson is gone. How was this fair? How is it that you are still here breathing. You deserve to suffer but death is too easy but you do deserve to suffer. 

Every muscle in Hermione’s body tightens, her eyes narrow, you deserve to suffer. With that thought, she releases the spell on Crabbe. Her hands fall to her side, energy escapes her. She watches emotionless as Crabbe clings to his throat gulping as much fresh air as he could.

“I could kill you Crabbe” says Hermione coldly “but I choose not to. Did she get out you ask, no she didn’t and it’s your fault. Live with it Crabbe, live with the fact that you murdered your friend” 

Crabbe sits rigid, sucking in big gulps of air. His eyes wide with fear. His face turning a sickening colour as the words she spoke slowly sink in. His friend is dead, he killed his friend.  
Malfoy and Goyle sit slumped against the wall, staring at her mouth agape. 

“Hermione,” says Harry gently, placing his hand on her shoulder 

She doesn’t have time to feel sorrow they have a task to complete, she doesn’t have time to mourn there is a war happening. 

On cue, a thunderous sound shakes the very ceiling above their heads. There’s a battle happening, that they need to end before other innocent lives are lost. She needs to push her feelings aside and get on with their task. 

The loud sound snapping Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe from their dazed trance, they scurry and scuffle to their feet and race down the hall, away from the Gryffindors, away from the wrath of Hermione. 

“Cowards” chips Hermione 

“Hermione,” says Harry. The look on his face and the tone of his voice suggests an odd combination of emotions, fear, concern and awe. He’s lips poised to ask her a question 

“The spell was in one of the books Mrs Fadington lent us” replies Hermione as if that answers any questions he may have. 

A shiny glimmer catches her eye. “Harry, what’s that?” she asks pointing to his wrist, ignoring the concerned look on his face. He knows better than to question her, he of all people knows the feeling of anger at the loss of someone close.

Instead, Harry removes the blackened Diadem from his wrist holding it up. Hermione is able to make out the words etched along the base WIT BEYOND MEASURE IS MAN’S GREATEST TREASURE.

Just like Hufflepuff’s cup, a black oil like product oozes from the Diadem, but unlike the Hufflepuff Cup, the Diadem shakes slightly and snaps cleanly in half in Harry’s hand. Only the faintest scream is heard in comparison to the ear-shattering scream of the Hufflepuff Horcrux. 

“Fiendfyre” says Hermione “it must have been Fiendfyre” 

“What?” says Harry”

“Cursed fire, it’s one of the things that can destroy a Horcrux, but I would never, ever have dared use it, it’s so dangerous, as we just saw. It’s too unpredictable, too hard to control”

“Hermione” says Harry 

“You know what this means?” says Hermione ignoring Harry she needs to stay focussed “Don’t you realise? This means we only have to get the snake. We need to...” 

She is unable to finish her sentence, the sound of yells and shouts and the sound of spells being cast echo down the hall. There’s dueling, that could only mean Death Eaters had penetrated Hogwarts. 

A deafening bang, followed by another two bangs shake and crumble the walls around them. 

“C’mon” says Hermione about to run down the hall

It was only when Harry and she had taken no more than three or four steps they noticed that Ron was not at their side. Halting in their tracks they turn

“Ron. You coming” asks Harry 

“Ron” says Hermione gently when he does not acknowledge Harry’s question 

Ron has been silent during the whole exchange since they escaped the fire. He stares at Hermione a perplexed look on his face. The same look he sports when he is attempting to complete his difficult homework. 

“Ron?”. 

“You called her Pansy,” says Ron slowly, his brow knitted as he puts the pieces of this complex puzzle together 

“What?”

“Pansy. You called out Pansy. In there” says Ron pointing to where the door to the Room of Requirement should have been 

“Well that’s her name” says Hermione 

“No. She’s always been Parkinson” says Ron softly still concentrating hard “and she came to help. Why?” 

Panic begins to set in, how on earth would Hermione explain this, and why now. Her throat restricts. 

“I-“ begins Hermione but she is interrupted by the thundering of hooves bellowing down the hall. 

An avalanche of ghosts on horses, the heads no longer fixed to their shoulders but instead scream for battle from beneath their owner's arms race towards them. She has never been so happy to see the Headless Hunt in all her existence, she has no idea how she would explain her and Pansy to the boys especially now. 

“To battle”. cries Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, the leader of the Headless Hunt “For Hogwarts and for honour”. 

“We haven’t got time. There’s a war” yells Harry as the stampede pass them 

“Yeah right, of course. Let’s go” says Ron racing to their side giving Hermione an odd glance

Jets of colourful light whizz past them in every direction as they run towards the battle. Just before them is Percy and Fred Weasley engaged in a fierce battle with two masked men.

“Percy’s back,” says Ron his voice filled with happiness that is family are back together 

The hood of the masked man battling Percy slips revealing none other than the new Minister of Magic Pius Thicknesse 

“Well hello, Minister!” Yells Percy, sending a perfectly aimed hex to Thicknesse’s chest, which makes the minister drop his wand and grasp at the front of his robes as he drops to his knees. His body contorts and bubbles he was turning into a sea urchin.

“Did I mention I’m resigning?”

“You’re joking, Perce!” shouts Fred turning to Percy with glee. “You actually are joking, Perce”

The Death Eater takes advantage of Fred’s momentary lack of concentration, shoots a crimson coloured hex directly at Fred hitting him in the head. 

Hermione screams as Fred’s body crumbles to the floor lifeless.

“NOOOOO!” screams Percy sending three separate stunning spells, towards the Death Eater, none of which miss their target.  
Percy too falls to his knees clinging to Fred, tears streaming down his cheeks “FRED, FRED” he cries clinging to his brother in anguish

“FRED” screams Ron as he runs to his brother's side 

Hermione staggers and sways ” No no. no. “Not. Fred Too!”

Thick red blood gushes from the right side Fred’s face down his cheek. So much blood, she has never seen so much blood before.  
Percy let’s out a heart-wrenching cry as he clings to Fred desperately. Harry grabs Hermione’s hand as he too stands helpless watch Percy and Ron on either side of Fred. Her world was collapsing around her first Parkinson, now Fred who would be next. The thought sends a shiver of fear down her spine. 

A gurgling sound comes from the arms of Percy. 

“YOU’RE ALIVE!” shouts Percy “HE’S ALIVE” he says looking Hermione, a wide grin plastered on his tear stained face 

“He won’t be much longer if you don’t stop choking him to death” says Ron relief is written all over his face 

Tears of relief and joy ran unchecked down Hermione’s face. Too overcome with happiness she just stands there but just for a moment, the flowing blood from Fred’s head, causing her to straighten up and focus. 

“He’s hurt. He’s losing too much blood. We have to get him to the Great Hall, we have to get him medical help” 

“Yes, yes of course” says Percy tearing a piece of his cloak from his arm and wrapping Fred’s head adding pressure to stem the bleeding “You’ll be ok Freddy, don’t you worry” says Percy 

"Wingardeium Leviosa” chants Percy gently elevating Fred’s body from the floor “follow me” he says sounding just like he sounded in Hermione's first year when he was a prefect “stand guard in case other Death Eaters are about. One moment,” says Percy before kicking the sea urchin into a nearby wall 

Cautiously they creep to the Great Hall, wands raised. They stand guard around Fred, Percy, and Ron at Fred’s shoulders, Hermione and Harry at his heel, each on high alert acutely aware that they could be attacked at any moment.

The school halls that once thrummed with life, happiness and aimless chatter amongst friends is now quiet and dark Sections of castle walls lay broken and crumbled. Tapestry barely hangs from the walls in tethers. Statues lay headless and smashed in the floor, what can only be blood is splattered brightly against the grey walls. 

A body lays lifeless beneath the rubble. Their face a sickening grey colour as their life has been taken from them. She doesn’t recognise them. Guilt oozes in her belly when she doesn’t recognise who it is, she is so thankful that it’s not someone they know. But someone would know this person and that someone would care about them too.  
How many others have to lose their lives for this, how many innocent have died...like Parkinson.  
Her eyes glaze over with a glassy layer of tears. She blinks rapidly in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. Her heart like so many times this evening sinks, she didn’t know Parkinson very well but she would have liked to. And that’s the saddest thing of all she now will never get the opportunity to. She bites her bottom lip to stop any sounds of escaping her while the magnitude of her loss sweeps over her. 

Distance flashes of colourfully light beam across the windows, the battle is still in full force as they near the staircase to the third floor. 

They have to keep fighting, they have to stay focussed, time was of the essence for the greater good. 

“Wait” says Hermione stopping in her tracks 

“What” says Ron 

“We need to know where he is, we need to know where the snake is. We have to get it” says Hermione

“Fred -“

“Percy’s cloak has slowed the bleeding, we have to before others get hurt.” 

“But -“

“We can’t lose sight now of what we're supposed to be doing! We're the only ones who can end it!" 

“Fred -“ 

“We have to, everyone else is still fighting, you’re whole family Ron” 

“She’s right” says Percy “Mum and Dad are here. I don’t even know if mum knows how to duel.” 

There’s a flurry of screams and large explosive sounds in the distance

“Harry, you need to find out where Voldemort is, he'll have the snake with him” she can’t believe she is going to suggest this but there is no other way “Harry--look inside him!" 

Her heart beats against her chest as they watch and wait, the sounds of battle nearing. Harry’s eyes are squeezed tight and he grasps his scar in pain. She hates having to ask him to do this but it was the only way. Voldemort could be anywhere in the castle. 

Hermione jumps in surprise when Harry's eyes shoot open  
“The Shrieking Shack. He’s at the Shrieking Shack, he’s got the snake. He's just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape." 

Hermione’s anger once again summers to the surface “Voldemort is at the Shrieking Shack?" says Hermione, outraged. "He's not even FIGHTING? He’s just sending everyone else in to do his dirty work. That vile -“ 

"He doesn't think he needs to fight," says Harry. "He thinks I'm going to go to him." 

“Why would he -“ begins Hermione 

“POTTER!”

Two masked Death Eaters have turned the corner just in front of them. 

Hermione and Percy hurl two quick stunning spells before the Death Eaters even have time to raise their wands. Fred’s body falls to the floor with a thump as Percy releases his levitation spell to fight the Death Eaters. 

“Quick! Percy get Fred to the Great Hall before more come. We’ll hold them off” says Harry

There was no way Percy or any of them can fight adequately while trying to protect a semi-conscious Fred Weasley. 

Just as Hermione had predicted another two Death Eaters come around the corner, as Percy races in the opposite direction with a levitated and bouncing Fred beside him. 

Stunning spells shoot past narrowly missing them. 

"Glisseo!" shouts Hermione turning the staircase beneath them into a slide. They speed down fast as stunning spells shoot past them, Harry attempts to shoot spells over his shoulders. Hermione squeezes her eyes shut as they catapult through a concealing tapestry, hoping they do not land into more Death Eaters. They all land with a thump and roll along the floor. 

"Duro!" shouts Hermione, belly flat on the ground, pointing her wand turning the tapestry into stone. Two loud bone crunching sounds echo through as the Death Eaters who had decided to pursue them crashed into it. 

“Have I ever told you, that I’m so happy you’re on our side?” says a panting Ron 

The sound of scrapping and loud clanking belts down the corridor towards them.

“What now?” 

“Quick” says Harry grabbing Hermione by the arm and pushing her against the wall with Ron 

“Bloody hell” she hears Ron say 

A herd of galloping desk belt past them directed by a running Professor McGonagall. Her hair loose, a large scratch on her cheek 

“Find what you were looking for Harry” she yells running past them

“Yes” Harry calls out after her. She offers them a smile filled with pride before turning back to her herd and screaming "CHARGE!" 

“Quick let’s get to the Shrieking Shack” says Hermione racing down a nearby staircase finding themselves amongst a team of duellers 

Seamus, Dean and Parvati are face to face with Death Eaters. The figures in the portrait are all crammed into a single a single frame pushing over each other shooting advice at the dueling trio. 

“IT’S POTTER” yells one of the Death Eater

Parvati takes advantage of his distraction and sends a stunning spell towards him, she beams with pride as he crumbles to the floor.  
Hermione along Ron and Harry raise their wands ready to come to the aid of their friends. 

“Oi. Death Eater scum, catch this” yells Neville from behind them as he lurches Snargaluff pods onto the Death Eaters. Their heads suddenly engulfed in wriggling green slimy tubers. The portraits cheer and shout further instructions to shoot the Death Eaters. 

“We’re alright here Harry” says Neville “you do what you have to do”. 

“Come on” says Hermione dragging Harry. They have to end this. 

“Let’s put the invisibility cloak on” says Ron

Of course, thinks Hermione why hadn’t she thought of that herself 

There were duellers everywhere, Kingsley was dueling Yaxley, and fighting near them was Flitwick and a masked Death Eater. Students were running in all directions shooting spells, dragging injured friends away from the battle. They aided where they could sending stunning spells towards the enemy while under the protection of the invisibility cloak. Hannah Abbott came racing around the corner with Professor Sprout holding armfuls of Venomous Tentacula, which eagerly looped itself around the nearest Death Eater and began reeling him in. 

Students ran in every direction; some carrying or dragging injured friends. It was pandemonium. Hermione catches sight of two people dueling on the balcony above. She can clearly see the red and gold colours of a Gryffindor robe fighting a marked Death Eater. It’s Lavender Brown.  
The Death Eater casts a powerful spell that blows a gaping hole in the side of the balcony causing Lavender to stumble backward and fall from the balcony down to the ground below with a sickening crunch.  
As her body lays on the ground twitching in pain and struggling to move, what Hermione could only describe as animalistic creature speeds across the hall on all fours, teeth gnarling ready to bite and maul Lavender. 

NO!" screams Hermione, pushing the invisibility cloak off and with a blast from her wand, Fenrir Greyback is thrown from the body of Lavender Brown, smashing into a nearby wall, but he is strong and starts returning to his feet. Before Hermione can cast another spell, there is a white flash, a large crystal ball has fallen on top of his head. Greyback tumbles to the floor lifeless, blood oozing from his skull.

Professor Trelawney stands on the edge of the banister with a multitude of crystal balls floating around her. She lunches another crystal ball at a Death Eater, fighting a student from Hufflepuff, hitting the Death Eater square in the face. 

With a colossal bang, the big heavy wooden doors are smashed and splintered into pieces. One of the biggest giants Hermione has ever seen has broken in. Screams came from both Death Eaters and fighters for the light. 

“RUN” says Harry dragging Hermione with Ron close behind through the legs of the giant, past the door and into the grounds. Hermione doesn’t know where to look first. Fighting was all around them.

Luna is dueling with a masked assailant. She was swishing and swirling her wand effortlessly her face cheerily blank, as if this wasn’t real fighting, that she couldn’t get hurt or killed like she was just at a DAs practice session. Her spell hits the Death Eater is the face. He falls to his knees in utter agony, grasping at his face. They see the mask of the Death Eater bubble and shift just before a giant bat flies from beneath the mask accompanied by an agonising scream before another bat bigger than the last also escapes the confines. 

She’s so calm” says Ron staring at Luna in awe “like she doesn’t have a care in the world”

Luna waves happily at Harry, Ron and Hermione “Ginny taught me this one” she says.  
The Death Eater yells out in sheer pain, little streaks of blood begin to trickle down from under the mask

“I may have modified it slightly,” Luna says dreamily just before another bat bigger than the one previous with what looks like sharp little pin tops on it wings pushes through the mask 

“That’ll keep him busy for a while. There’s more fighting to do” Luna says before skipping off back towards the castle 

“Mental that one,” says Ron but there was no ounce of malice in his tone 

“Quick,” says Harry as he races towards the Whomping Willow. Hermione and Ron hot on his tail. 

The branches smash and swish violently against the ground, protecting the secret passageway to the Shrieking Shack. With careful aim, Hermione shoots at the secret knot on the trunk of the tree that will stop the willow thrashing about, hitting it perfectly. 

“Perfect shot, Hermione”. says Ron impressed “You could of been a Chaser” 

“I’ll go first,” says Harry making his way through the now still branches 

Hermione follows Harry into the earthy passageway. It seems so much smaller than last time. Ron and Harry are doubled over so they do not hit their head on the roots of the whopping willow that had perforated the dirt.  
They walk in silence as the sounds of battle beat above them as they make their way towards the Shrieking Shack, towards Voldemort. Thoughts of the battle penetrate her thoughts. Her heart squeezes against her chest as the image of Parkinson and the look of fear she wore as she ran for her life from the cursed fire. A slow torture burns in her veins as she replays the moment that Pansy disappeared from her sight and subsequently her life. 

“We’re here” whispers Harry she hadn’t realised that they had arrived at their destination, her thoughts too consumed by Parkinson. 

They strain their ears against the darkness for signs of Voldemort, but instead of the high pitched voice, they hear the soft gurgle of someone whose life was being drained from them.

Hermione catches her breath as Harry places his hand on the passage door.  
She gasps, the palm of her hands shoot to her mouth in shock, her stomach churns in disgust and shock.

There lying slumped against the wall is Professor Snape blood gushing from an open wound on his neck, his fingers desperately trying to stem the bleeding. Hermione stands frozen to the spot barely able to breathe. She watches as Harry makes his way to the Professor, to the man he despises with all his heart and places his own hands on the wound, hoping to help. 

A chilling rattle and gurgle escape Professors Snape’s throat, “Take...it...Take...it..."

A whispy Silvery blue substance starts seeping from Snape’s eyes, just like the substance from the Pensieve in Dumbledore’s office. Snape was offering Harry his memories. Hermione conjures up a flask and hands it Harry, unable to speak. Tears swell in her eyes, she didn’t like Snape but seeing him here, seeing his face slowly drain of colour and the sounds of death chilling her to the core she didn’t know how to help.  
She knows the cut is deep and no doubt cursed, but she has to try. Ripping at a tattered old curtain she hands Harry the dirty aged piece of cloth. 

“The bleeding...” is all Hermione could manage to get out, her eyes focussed on the colour in Snape’s eyes usually black eyes slowly turning grey. 

“We’ll send for help,” says Harry despite knowing it was probably useless 

Her body trembles as Snape’s voice rattled and gurgles, the sound of death is nearing 

Look...at....me..." whispers Snape as he clings to Harry’s shirt, his black eyes staring deeply into Harry’s vibrant green, and then something odd, something she had never seen before. A smile, a small sad smile passes Snape’s lips before his eyes close shut. 

“We have to send for help” says Harry still pressing hard on the cloth over Snape’s deadly wound 

“Mate...”

“Harry I don’t think...”

“We.have.to.get.help” says Harry forcefully 

“Ok Harry. Let’s go back to the castle and get help” says Hermione, attempting to appease Harry and ignoring the look of confusion Ron shoots at her. 

She doesn’t know what to feel but she knows they have to remain focused on the task “C’mon Harry” she says gently “the sooner we go back the sooner we can get help for Snape” 

Harry nods and tightens the cloth around Snape’s bleeding neck. 

They all simultaneously freeze in place, as they make their way back to the passage. That cold calculated voice of Voldemort seeps through the walls of the Shack, and no doubt the castle once more. It covers every nook and cranny of the landscape. 

“ You have fought valiantly, but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore, command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you, rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest, and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me.” 

There’s an odd look on Harry’s face as if he is genuinely considering it 

“You’re not going” says Hermione with determination “let’s get to the Great Hall”. 

They move swiftly and in silence to the grounds of Hogwarts passing more and evidence of war. There is an eerie silence engulfing Hogwarts, the air is thick with unbridled energy just like before a great storm is about to strike. 

Hermione can hear movement and frantic chatter as they arrive at the doors to the Great Hall. A dull blow kicks her belly as she pushes through the large wooden doors looks around the room. Everyone was frantically moving around, desperately trying to help one another. Some were hugging their friends and comrades tightly, Madam Pomfrey was busily tending to wounds and ordering people about to get her medicine and bandages as she aids the injured. The row of dead lined against the wall with friends and family kneeling beside them, tears streaming down their cheeks as they cry in grief.  
She sees Professor McGonagall in deep conversation with Kingsley her unusually pristine robes ripped and dirty from battle.

“Professor” Hermione calls our softly “Professor Snape is in the Shrieking Shack, he’s...he’s badly injured” 

Hermione doesn’t wait for a reply she has done her part. 

It’s like being in a dream all this commotion is happening around her and she is moving in slow motion trying to take in the massacre around her. 

“Fred” exclaims Ron running towards his family. 

A gaggle of redheads kneel beside Fred, Mrs. Weasley clutching to Fred’s hand. Her worried expression mimicked on her children’s and husbands face as they hover over Fred’s bloodstained body. 

“Fred” says Ron reaching out for Fred’s free hand 

With all the focus on Fred, no one had noticed George looking absolute grief-stricken. He had almost lost a part of himself tonight. Hermione places a comforting hand on George’s shoulder. 

“Don’t mind him Hermione” croaks Fred although dulled, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye “he’s just upset he’s not the only godlike one in the family anymore. I’m holey too” he says lifting a wary arm up to point to his right ear. 

Hermione can’t help but smile and laugh a sad laugh at the irony, Fred has lost his right ear. It’s only fitting that the twins have matching war wounds, one without a right ear, the other without his left. 

Ginny hugs her tightly, for such a long time her face and eyes red and swollen from the tears she has shed. 

“It could have been so much worse” whispers Ginny the reality of the situation sinking in. She came so close to losing her brother. Had the spell been a few centimeters the other way, Fred would not be lying here breathing and casting lame jokes. They stand as a family relieved and worried, there is still more fighting to do. There is no guarantee the next Weasley will be so lucky 

“Over here, over here” says MadamePomfrey ushering Oliver Wood who was carrying a limp Colin Creevey in his arms. Something twists and tears in her belly, he looks so small in Oliver’s arms, almost like an infant. He was too young to fight he must have snuck back in, he always idolised Harry.  
Harry. Where’s Harry thinks Hermione frantically looking about the Hall in a panic. .She can’t see him anywhere. Her stomach drops, deep down she knows where he’s gone, she knows Harry too well. He never wanted anyone to die for him. 

“Ron. Where’s Harry”

Ron looks around the look on his face says he’s come to the same conclusion 

“Bloody idiot” murmurs Ron

“Let’s go” says Hermione 

With her heart in her throat, she races towards the doors of Great Hall, Ron hot on her tail. Her chest constricts in fear, she’s lost enough people she cares about tonight. Again the tears threaten to spill but she can’t she has to find Harry and stop him from doing something stupid like going to the Forbidden Forest. She has no idea how much time has passed from when she last saw Harry until now. 

Barely acknowledging what is all around her, she runs straight into Neville who grabs her by the shoulders stopping them from stumbling to the floor. 

“Hermione...” 

“Harry. Have you seen Harry.” says Hermione 

“Yeah, Not that long ago” 

Instant relief washes over her, Someone has seen Harry. 

“Where is he?” says Hermione holding her breath 

“He said something about it being part of the plan. And if for some reason you and Ron didn’t do it, he told me to kill the Snake. Nearly scared me half to death when he came out of that invisibility cloak of his” 

The severity of the situation was almost too much to bear, Harry was going to hand himself over to Voldemort like a lamb to slaughter. The air around her suffocating her, she needs to keep her head, she needs to help Harry

“We have to go help him” says Hermione “he’s gone to Voldemort I know it”  
She makes to break from Neville and race to the Forbidden Forest, but his hold on her is strong.

“Neville, what are you doing? Let me go”

“No Hermione. Says Neville you’re not going. If you go you’ll be killed without a second thought”

"I don’t care" says Hermione struggling against Neville’s strong grasp "I'ld rather die than do nothing" 

Neville tightens his grip You don't even know Harry has gone there, he told me he wouldn’t. 

“Ron do something” pleads Hermione 

“He’s right. We don’t...” 

“I won’t abandon him like you did” 

Regret washes over her like waves on the shore, the moment those words pass her lips. The look of hurt on Ron’s face tears at her. He’s more than made up for his sudden departure in the Forest of Dean 

“Ron, I...” 

“You’re right Hermione.” says Ron lowly “But we can’t go after him, we don’t know if he’s gone there. We could make it worse. I won’t lose you. We have to stay focused, get the snake. Wait for Harry to come back.” He says hopefully 

Hermione knows he’s right, look at Parkinson, if she hadn’t come back into that Room she may still be here, all because she forced her to participate in something she didn’t want to, wasn’t prepared for. The thoughts slice at her very core, her chin trembles in grief

“It’ll be alright Mione” says Ron a worried tremor in his voice “he has to be” he whispers putting his arm around her and leading her back in the Great Hall 

Her skin tingles at the sound of a great ruckus and commotion occurring outside in the grounds of Hogwarts, there’s a distant chatter, cheers and the sound of something similar to fireworks. Laughter, there was laughter such a foreign sound to her ears. 

"They are back" says Professor McGonagall leading the charge as she rushes past Hermione and Ron towards the sounds. 

They chase after her just like all the other battlers. The sounds get louder and louder engulfing her senses as the tribe of Death Eaters come closer to the castle. 

"NO!"

The scream came from Professor McGonagall as she burst through the door into the grounds of Hogwarts. It was a scream like Hermione had never heard before, it was of complete and utter anguish. She could have never imagined the usually composed Professor McGonagall making such a sound. 

Her blood chills as she sees what Professor McGonagall has seen. The blood drains from her face, she feels faint the world around her spins. There lies Harry limp and lifeless in the sobbing arms of Hagrid 

"Harry! HARRY!" calls out Hermione desperately

Gasps of disbelief and loud shouts of "No" escape all those around her as they too see what she sees. 

"Harry Potter is dead" says Voldemort triumphantly patting the head of the snake Nagini safely nestled around his neck “He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

The world around her comes crashing down. Harry is dead. Her body feels numbs. Disbelief and anguish engulf her, completely capturing her mind, rendering any logical thought impossible.  
The silence around them deafening. 

"It is over! "Harry Potter is dead! Do you  
understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you plenty of times!" yells Ron beside Hermione 

All the Hogwartarians started shouting and yelling at Voldemort’s claims. They would not go down without a fight, they would still stand and fight for what is right. 

“SILENCE” yells Voldemort quietening them all  
"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds, killed while trying  
to save himself - "

“LIAR” yells Neville charging towards Voldemort 

“NEVILLE” screams Hermione as a spell is cast that sends him tumbling to the floor groaning in pain. 

"Who is this?" says Voldemort somewhat amused that someone tried to challenge him 

The laughter erupting from Bellatrix Lestrange, her torturer, churns her stomach hatred flowing through Hermione like dangerous lava. 

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The son of the Aurors, remember?" says Bellatrix wickedly her brown teeth snarling in amusement 

"Ah, yes, I remember," says Voldemort "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy? Voldemort asks Neville,

"And?” Says Neville defiantly his fists clenched in anger

Hermione grasps at her wand ready to protect Neville should Voldemort strike 

"You show spirit and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"NEVER," yells Neville. The crowd behind him cheering and yelling in support. 

"Very well," says Voldemort softly his voice laced with danger and the promise of horrible torture “On your head, be it."

Without even raising his wand the window behind them smashes, Hermione along with nearly every other person around her jump at the sound. Swishing through the sky is the Sorting Hat. Voldemort grabs easily out of the sky as it swirls towards him. 

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts," says Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?" he says pointing a wand towards Neville.

Ron makes to step forwards and help Neville but Hermione grabs his wrist. “Not yet” She too desperately wants to help Neville but “the snake, we have to get the snake” she whispers 

Neville grows rigid, Voldemort has glued him to spot before forcefully pushing the Sorting Hat into Neville’s head

"Neville has gracefully volunteered to demonstrate what happens to anyone who continues to oppose me," says Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, the Sorting Hat bursts into flames.

Neville screams unable to move from his spot. They have to act now. So many things began to occur at once.  
Professor McGonagall sends a jet of water towards Neville extinguishing the flames and knocking the hat from Neville’s head. 

At the same time, there is a roar and the stamping of hoofs from the Forbidden Forest. Arrows shoot through the air towards the Death Eaters who scatter and shriek in the shock. The centaurs have come to join the fight against Voldemort. The sound of their hooves stampeding and hitting the ground fill air.  
The glint from something shiny catches Hermione’s eye, it attracts Neville too who has broken free from his binding curse, he pulls from the singed hat something silver, with a sparkling rubied handle - it’s the sword of Gryffindor. In one smooth move he raises the sword and with a single strike the head of the snake spins high in the air before landing with a thump at Voldemort’s feet. A scream of fury bursts from Voldemort but it’s nothing compared to the scream of Hagrid 

"HARRY!" Hagrid shouted. "WHERE'S HARRY?"

The blood races through Hermione’s veins, where’s Harry gone? Spells are cast left tight and center as the stamped of centaurs approaches causing the giants in Voldemort’s army to scatter and run. They all have no option but to race back into the castle to escape being speared or stepped on by a giant. It was absolute chaos. Death Eaters fell from wayward spells. 

There was more yells and screams of war, to her left as Hermione continues to cast spells. Coming from the direction of Hogsmeade were hundreds of people, running and storming towards the castle wands raised in battle. Leading the charge of what looked like all the shopkeepers and residents of Hogsmeade along with the family and friends of the students of Hogwarts, was Mrs Fadington, her plump body moving remarkably fast her wand pointed, next to her was the Professor Dean had pointed out earlier. Professor Slughorn and next to him..Hermione has to do a double take, her mind must be playing tricks on her blinking furiously, next to the professor was a girl with rich raven hair, she looks just like Parkinson. 

“HERMIONE” screams Ginny as a spell narrowly misses her too stunned for who she thought she had just seen 

“Quick inside” says Ron dragging her and Ginny into the Great Hall as Hermione desperately tries to get a better look at the person she thinks is Parkinson but fails. 

Curses fly left, right and center she has to remain focused. Students, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters battle furiously against each other. 

There’s a large explosion that shakes the walls of Hogwarts, the door to the kitchen comes flying off. The house elf’s of Hogwarts race into battle led by Kreacher screaming ahead with knives, cleavers, pots pans anything the could grab their tiny hands on. 

"Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!" Yells Kreacher as the elves stab and attack the Death Eaters, hatred for years of abuse imprinted on their faces, and as a Death Eater falls they are engulfed by a hoard of elves clambering over them attacking and rebelling. 

Bursting through the door is Mrs Fadington, Professor Slughorn and ...Hermione stands prettified to the spot in shock, her stomach somersaults, words are stuck in her throat. It is Parkinson right beside them, her robes still soiled and burnt by the fire. Black ash streaked along her face. Pansy is alive, but how? As if seeing a ghost she watches mouth agape as Parkinson begins dueling with Daphne Greengrass by her side. A number of the Slytherin’s have come back to fight for Hogwarts. 

Hermione doesn’t have time to comprehend what has occurred, how Parkinson survived the inferno the voice behind her sends shivers down her spine

“Oh my little mudblood, come to play”. comes the sing-song voice of Bellatrix. Hermione spins around quickly to see Bellatrix’s brown teeth gleaming at her. The sight and sound of the woman fuelling an angry fire in Hermione’s belly, she shoots a curse that Bellatrix deflects, she shoots another which she also deflects while laughing maniacally “you have to do better than that my little mudblood” sings Bellatrix as she dances about as if this is the most entertaining day of her life. 

Sweat forms on Hermione’s brow as every spell she casts towards the evil witch is cast away easily. Ginny casts a spell as does Luna towards Bellatrix in an attempt to aid Hermione, but Bellatrix is a formidable opponent easily managing to knock their spells array. Three against one and she is still laughing and teasing them, she is an amazing duelist and extremely powerful witch. A green light shoots from Bellatrix’s wand, the killing curse, narrowly missing Ginny 

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" screams Mrs. Weasley throwing off her cloak as she runs towards the girls.

Bellatrix laughs loud in pure amusement at her new opponent 

"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouts Mrs. Weasley to the three girls, as she begins to duel.

Butterflies dance a dangerous tango in Hermione’s belly, worry runs in her blood. Mrs Weasley is a stay at home mum, she hasn’t been in a duel let alone in a duelagainst someone a powerful as Bellatrix Lestrange.  
All three girls watch in amazement as Mrs Weasley casts powerful spells towards Bellatrix. Percy races forward to assist his mother 

"No!" Mrs. Weasley cries “Get back! She is mine!" 

Hermione along with many of the other fighters watch in awe as the two women duel. Bellatrix’s laughter faltering at the realisation that this would not be as easy as she thought. Powerful spell after powerful spell is cast. The ground around the two witches begins to crack and shake, they were both fighting to kill. 

"I had no idea mum could duel like that" says Percy 

"When I’ve killed you, who will look after your children?” taunts Bellatrix as she dances around the spells cast 

"You - will - never - touch - our - children - again!" screams Mrs. Weasley as she casts a spell that hits Bellatrix straight in her heart. Bellatrix’s eyes widen for a moment realising that she has been hit, before crumbling form to the ground dead. 

Percy and the girls cheer, Hermione hears Voldemort roar in anger in the background. 

“Try and use a dark spell on me will you. I don't think so you miscreant” yells Mrs Fadington “I read and therefore I know” she says before casting an unusual spell. Two jets of light, one yellow the other orange shoot from her wand simultaneously, the Death Eater screams in pain falling to the floor as both jets of light hit her. Hermione had never heard of the ability to cast two separate hex’s from one spell. 

“I’ll lend you the book that teaches you that trick next time” winks Mrs Fadington to Hermione before bounding forward towards her next battle. 

“You’re a shame to the House of Slytherin” yells the Death Eater still dueling with Pansy and Daphne 

“Oh yeah” Daphne yells back “you’re a shame to humanity” before both Pansy and Daphne cast a spell simultaneously that sends the Death Eater crushing to the ground 

Hermione desperately wants to run to Pansy’s side, but another wayward spell shoots past her reminding her to stay focused. They have to kill Voldemort for Harry, she can talk to Parkinson later. 

Another roar from Voldemort who has been dueling McGonagall, Slughorn and Kingsley sends his three opponents flying from him crashing into the wall. Anger etched onto his cold face at the loss of his next right-hand person. He points his wand at Mrs. Weasley 

Hermione hears someone yell “Protego!" the Shield Charm in the middle of the Hall, growing to protect her, Hermione searches about to see who cast it. 

Her blood freezes in shock. She can’t believe her eyes, completely overcome in with joy Hermione cheers loudly. Harry is standing in the center of the Great Hall. 

Cheers and yells of "Harry!" "HE'S ALIVE!" Come from every corner of the room.  
The noise instantly silencing as Harry walks towards Voldemort. All eyes are on Harry and Voldemort, no one is dueling this is the main attraction 

With her heart caught in her throat, Hermione watches helplessly as Harry and Voldemort circle each other like trained fighters in a ring, waiting to pounce.  
Raising his wand, his eyes firmly fixed on Voldemort, Harry calls out “No-one try to help me, it has to be me”. 

“Ha” hisses Voldemort “you have only survived because you have used people as a shield Potter” 

Hermione’s leg muscles twitch desperate to jump in and help Harry, She watches with baited breath as Harry narrow his eyes in determination 

“You’re Horcruxes are destroyed. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, one of us is about to leave for good. . . ."

“You can not defeat me, you have survived this long by pure accident” 

"Was it an accident that my mum died to save me? When I let you shoot me with the killing spell earlier tonight and survived to fight you again, Was that an accident too Riddle” 

Hermione shivers as Voldemort’s red snake like eyes beam hatred at Harry 

"You dare -"

“Yes, I do dare, actually,” says Harry “I have learnt things. Things you will never understand Tom Riddle.“ 

Both Ron and Hermione shoot each other a look of confusion, has Harry learnt something else. 

Everyone stands still in the Hall watching, holding their breath as the two wizards continue to circle each other. Death Esters stand next to Hogwartarians too focussed on Harry and Voldemort to take in what’s around them. 

“Tell me Potter, what is it that a mere boy knows that I, the greatest wizard to ever exist does not” Laughs Voldemort 

His laughter cold and evil sends a shiver down Hermione’s spine and makes her stomach churn

“I hope he knows what he’s doing” whispers Ron 

Hermione can only nod in agreement, her heart beating viciously against her chest as the two wizards before her continue their ballad

“You sent Draco to retrieve Dumbledore’s wand from St Mungoes didn’t you” 

“How does he know that and why does it matter” whispers Ron to Hermione who can only shrug her shoulders unable to answer hoping that Harry knows what he is doing 

Voldemort’s stares at Harry his serpent eyes searching for something 

“And he did, did you know that? He took it from Dumbledore, dropped it when he heard someone, just before Snape retrieved it for you.” 

“Is that all you have Potter?” laughs Voldemort “It matters not. Snape is no longer. I saw to that” 

Whispers broke out amongst the crowd. Hermione listens intently. The wand, why is Harry focussed on the wand Hermione gasps ....it couldn’t be could it she thinks. 

They had discovered a symbol in the book Dumbledore has left her. A triangle, with a circle and a line through it. Supposedly each shape depicting three extremely powerful magical items apparently created by death himself. - the Deathly Hallows. One of the items - the line - representing the wand, but not any wand, the Elder Wand, a wand so powerful that it would see any opponent dropping like a fly. Hermione admits she wasn’t convinced of its existence and the reality was finding and destroying Horcruxes was more important. Elder Wand or no Elder Wand, if Horcruxes still existed although not sure she very much doubted the wand would kill the opponent. 

“There's something not quite right with the wand isn’t there, not working properly is it. Here’s the thing Tom Riddle.” 

Hermione tenses as Voldemort grips his wand tighter, he was growing tired of Harry’s banter and as constant referral to his real name. 

“Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.”

“He took...”

“This is what you don’t know Riddle” taunts Harry Possessing the wand isn’t enough! You have to earn it, take it so the true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy, he took it from Dumbledore first” 

If Voldemort was shocked by the revelation he did not show it. 

Hermione listens intently unsure of where Harry was heading with this news. 

“It matters not?” he says softly. “after I have killed you, I will see to Mr Malfoy . . .”

“too late,” says Harry. “I overpowered Draco weeks ago in Makfot Manor I have his wand So The question is . “Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand.”

“Avada Kedavra!” yells Voldemort  
“Expelliarmus!” Yells Harry 

The sound of large explosion shakes and rattles the windows of the Great Hall as Harry and Voldemort cast a spell towards each other.

Hermione shields her eyes as bright flames burst at the point where their spells collided. She holds her breath in hope for Harry

Hermione gasps the wand from Voldemort hands flips and spins in the air as his body falls backward, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lands on the floor dead. 

Hermione races to Harry and engulfs him into a bone-crunching hug, tears of joy and relief cascade down her cheeks. He had done it Harry had done it, he killed Voldemort.  
Ron, then Ginny, Neville and Luna join in on the biggest group hug that Hermione has been in.  
Cheers and screams surround them as the watchers realise the battle is over. Harry had won. Hermione struggles to breathe as more and more come in to hug and congratulate Harry, pulling him back and forth. She needs air, releasing her bear-like hug on Harry, she slowly maneuvers her way from beneath all the plethora of arms grasping to congratulate Harry. 

Poor Harry she thinks as the crows around him grows and grows. She feels light for the first time in her teenage years she feels free.  
The sun slowly begins to rise its rays peaking through the broken glass to shed light on the Great Hall.  
She stands back taking a moment to just be and look around. Her heart sinks, her body feels heavy with sadness. Bodies of friends and foes lay strewn of the floor, broken and glass bits of stone from the castle litter the ground. All this wastage of life and for what?

Daphne and a handful of other students kneel beside some fallen Slytherin’s, tears staining their cheeks. Parkinson sits nearby, alone deep in thought examining the tips of her burnt hair. 

Hermione’s heart thunders against her chest, her legs feel like lead unable to move from the spot. How is it that she has been through so much, fought Death Eaters, escaped torture, practically faced death on a daily basis over the last year and yet taking a few simple steps towards Pansy Parkinson feels like the hardest thing she will ever have to do. 

“You should go talk to her” 

Hermione jumps, she hadn’t realised Ginny is standing beside her

“Go on” pushes Ginny "she came back" 

Heat rises to the nape of her neck as a pang of uncertainty simmers within her. Her eyes glued on to Parkinson as Ginny nudges her forward again forcefully. 

Hermione could feel the eyes of Ginny follow her with every step she takes towards Parkinson, her pulse quickens, her legs feeling heavy, the tingling in her stomach intensifying with every step. That nervous energy she had been feeling all week, had started to bubble and simmer inside of her again. Panic pulses in the center of her stomach. How was Parkinson going to react? What if she reacted badly for nearly being killed because Hermione forced her hand. Taking a deep breath Hermione takes the final steps to Parkinson and sits beside her. 

“Hi” whispers a Hermione nervously 

“My hair is ruined Granger” says Parkinson still examining her hair “cursed fire is not a great conditioner for hair. It almost looks as bad as yours” she says giving Hermione a sly smile and a look of playfulness rather than malice 

“You may have to go back to that little pageboy haircut you had in first year” teases Hermione back 

The smile they share warms Hermione to her very core. 

“I thought you” Hermione pauses unable to finish the sentence “How did you escape?” she asks 

“I ran into a cupboard” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t know what to do, I panicked and ran into a cupboard. Next thing I know I end up in that creepy shop in Knockturn Alley Borgin and Burke’s.” shrugs Parkinson 

“A Vanishing Cabinet,” says Hermione “It had to be a Vanishing Cabinet. They act as a passage between two places. They were very popular during the first war”

“Thanks for the history lesson,” says Parkinson smiling and shaking her head “all I know is, if it wasn’t for that cupboard I’ld be -“

“Don’t say it” says Hermione holding her hand up, she can’t hear it. There’s been too much loss already. 

"How did you get here" asks Hermione building to the real question she wants to ask 

"I flooed back to Hogsmeade, Slughorn and the bookshop owner were running about recruiting help so..." says Parkinson trailing off 

The silence and tension between them building. Hermione shifts nervously, now what, she wonders. What do they do now, they haven't spoken about where they stand, and Hermione isn't sure exactly why Parkinson came back, did she come to help Daphne who fought by her side. 

Taking a deep breath “Why? Why did you come back? asks Hermione quietly 

Her heart skips a beat before proceeding to pound hard against her chest. Her stomach lurches forward and summersaults waiting for Parkinson’s reply. She desperately wants Parkinson to say that perhaps it was for her, for them. Still playing with her singed strands of hair, Parkinson casts a sideways glance to Hermione analysing her features before looking back down at her hair, playing with it nervously. Shrugging her shoulders slightly she looks at Hermione from the corner of her eye and whispers 

“Maybe some things are worth dying for”


	16. The battle is over?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had not intended on writing any more chapters.  
> I was going to leave it at the end of the previous chapter “some things are worth dying for”. But I’ve had lots of messages wanting more so here it is.  
> Hopefully I have not ruined it for you and this chapter stays true to the story x

And then Parkinson gives her a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness, that a warmth rushes through her, she can’t seem to resist smiling back.  

”I see my book came in handy,” says Mrs. Fadington standing above them. A ginormous grin plastered across her round face. Her bright purple night robes torn and singed from missed curses. Her curly salt and pepper hair tumbling from her hair net, she must have jumped straight out of bed to come to battle. 

“Oh yes thank you,” says Hermione “I will return them straight away”

“Oh I don’t mean those books my dear,” she says winking and wiggling her eyebrows up and down between Parkinson and her. A mischievous glint in her eyes.  

Heat rises from the base of Hermione’s spine to the back of her neck. She can feel her cheeks burning hotter than a blazing fire as she realises what book Mrs. Fadington is referring to. 

“You know apparently there is another volume is in the process of being released 102 Guide to -”

“Thank you” interjects Hermione quickly her voice cracking with panic. She’s not quite ready for her affairs to be announced to everyone in the Great Hall just yet.  

Mrs. Fadington remains standing, still smiling widely at them. Hermione shifts uncomfortably under her gaze choosing to stare at her feet. 

“It was a very ummm interesting read” says Parkinson quietly at the realisation that Mrs. Fadington was not going to be moving until she provides some sort of review. 

“Splendid, splendid,” says Mrs. Fadington clapping her hands in delight. “Just wonderful” happiness beaming from her “hmmm,” she says casting her eyes across the Hall “I wonder if Minerva enjoys reading too?” 

Hermione splutters unable to formulate words, it is as if the connection from her brain to her mouth has been severed. Parkinson sits beside her mouth open in shock. 

“Cheerio girls,” says Mrs. Fadington making her way towards Professor MacGonigal who is busily replacing the House tables back to their positions.

“Did she just - Is she - I mean” stumbles Parkinson at a loss for words “I can’t imagine those two..” she says in eyes wide in disbelief 

“I don’t want to try and imagine it at all,” says Hermione shaking her head as the silence settles over them.  

Wetting her lips nervously she decides to ask Parkinson to join her outside so they can have some alone time to chat.  But before she can muster the courage, she hears a familiar call. 

“Hermione” calls out Fred from across the Hall “come sit with us” he says sitting at the Gryffindor table with his family, a huge smile beaming from him. A large white bandage covers half his head, making him look like an Egyptian mummy. 

Struck by indecision Hermione doesn’t know what to do. On the one hand, she wants to sit with her friends who are all looking at her expectantly but she also desperately wants to sit with Parkinson, to talk to about them and explore Parkinson’s confession that she came back for her.  

The realisation strikes Hermione hard, nausea swirls unrestrained in her stomach. The war had ended but this was still not going to be easy. In fact, it almost seemed harder than before. She is not sure her friends will understand what they will perceive to be a sudden change of heart. 

“Go,” says Parkinson softly “I want to make sure Daphne is ok anyhow,” she says standing up and walking towards the Slytherin table disappointment etched in her features.  

Hermione sits for a moment feeling listless and empty as if the very air from her body has been sucked from her. She tries her best to ignore it, push it away, as she makes her way to the Gryffindor table, her heart heavy. 

Squeezing in between Ginny and Luna, it takes a moment for Hermione to realise that everyone was mixed up on the tables, teachers were sitting with students, ghosts and parents, centaurs and house-elves all sharing plates of food and drink.    
No-one was sitting according to house affiliations except for the Slytherin’s, the scene making her heart plummet even further.  

The handful of Slytherin’s that had come back to fight for the light were sitting alone at their table just with their fellow housemates for company.  
She watches Daphne lean into Parkinson for comfort, her eyes red from tears, her heart squeezes as Parkinson places a reassuring arm around her. This was not going to be easy, prejudices on both sides would not miraculously disappear just because Voldemort was dead.  

Hermione sits at the table dominated by an overwhelming sadness. While everyone chats jubilantly of the battles they encountered, sadness was the only emotion being pushed from her being. The war was not over, not by far.  

“What’s eating you?” says George wrapping his arm around Ron’s neck and ruffling his hair

Ron has been particularity quiet staring down at his hands in deep contemplation, not engaging in the discussions all around him.  

“Nothing, ” says Ron refusing to look up “Just thinking,” he says his brow furrowed so heavy it was creating deep crevices on his forehead. 

“Don’t hurt yourself now” says Fred “ you just survived a war”

“Let him be” snaps Mrs. Weasley with a worried expression 

A heavy silence settles over them, as Ron continues to gaze deeply at the back of his hand. Unsettled eyes glance unceremoniously around at each other trying to understand what Ron is feeling or thinking. Countless minutes pass in silence.    
It was best to give him space, they had just survived a war but so many others had not. They had been through so much he had every right to feel whatever he was feeling.  

Ginny, Luna and Hermione all jump in their seats. Without any warning Ron smacks the table with the palm of his hands hoisting himself up from his seat. His blue eyes latching onto Hermione’s brown. Hermione shivers involuntarily, his face unreadable but his look is so intense it penetrates her very soul. 

“Ron” she whispers

Without a word, Ron takes a deep breath before grabbing two empty goblets. She can only watch in silence wondering what and where Ron is going as he makes his way from the Gryffindor table.    
She wants to call out to him but she can’t will her lips to move, instead she watches with baited breath and concern.   
The Gryffindor table falls silent as Ron walks past the Ravenclaw table, he takes another look back towards Hermione, with an odd strained tight lip look on his face, before taking the last few steps to the Slytherin table and sitting down opposite Parkinson, placing a goblet before her. Words are not shared, they need not to be, Ron’s gesture says it all.  

Words escape Hermione, she can’t describe the feelings racing through her veins. Her chest swells, tears of appreciation threaten to spill down her cheeks. She has the overwhelming urge to run up and hug the life out of Ron. 

“C’mon then,” says Ginny nudging Hermione “We can’t leave him alone in a den of snakes,” she says smiling before getting up and making her way towards the small number of Slytherin’s. 

Walking on autopilot Hermione trails Ginny towards the Slytherin’s. Ron’s gesture opening the floodgates for others to now join them at the Slytherin table.  

The sun continues to rise steadily over Hogwarts, light shining through the Great Hall now abuzz with life and light. Sliding next to Ron, Hermione reaches for his hand beneath the table and squeezes it tightly, as he silently picks at the plate of food before him. 

Parkinson with her arm still around Daphne smiles a small smile. This was a massive step forward for both houses. 

Hermione lets her body sag, her muscles become loose For the first time in forever, she has nowhere to be, nowhere to go, no-one to save.    
The smiles, the laughter around the room, different magical creatures sitting together, Gryffindors sitting with Slytherin’s gives her the one thing that she hadn’t thought possible just a few moments ago, it has given her hope. The promise that tomorrow could be a better place for the wizarding world regardless of blood status.    
Turning to Parkinson she smiles, perhaps all would be well after all.  

A hush shimmers across the Great Hall, all eyes turn to the headmaster’s pew as Kingsley, who has just been appointed the temporary Minister of Magic stands to address the room, Professor McGonagall by his side. 

“The Imperiused all over the country have come back to their senses” he begins “Remaining Death Eaters are fleeing, many have already been captured by Aura’s in their attempt to escape”  

The sound of cheers and the clinking of goblets breaks out across the Hall at the news.

“What about those in Azkaban, who did nothing wrong?” calls out someone 

“They have been freed” 

More cheers bounce off the walls of the Great Hall. Hermione notices families hug with tears of joy 

“You have done what you can for now” continues Kingsley “There is much still to do, but for now spend time with your loved ones and take this opportunity to rest.” 

“Teachers and Ministry Officials will be convening in the Great Hall later this afternoon with further updates and with plans moving forward to rebuild Hogwarts.” says Professor McGonagall stepping forward to stand beside Kingsley “You are all welcome to join us” she says “But for now you are welcome to use the common room and dormitories if you require some rest” 

“Can we Pansy” whispers Daphne “Can we go to our room?”.  

Hermione would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed and perhaps a little jealous. She desperately wants some alone time with Parkinson, just Parkinson. She wants to be the one that Parkinson has her arms around, to feel her hand stroking her shoulders, just as she did that night in the Room of Requirement.  

Her cheeks burn as the memories of that evening come flooding back like a broken damn. The way Parkinson’s body rolled and moved on top of her, the way her legs quivered at her touch. The sounds around her begin to fade, her eyes partly glazed over as she daydreams of the moment that Pansy Parkinson came undone under her touch, kisses and licks. 

She hadn’t realised she had zoned out, breathlessly reliving those moments until a soft whisper beside her drew her back to the moment. Her cheeks flushed, she hopes no one was performing a Legilimens spell on her just then 

It’s me,” she hears Harry whisper, but he is nowhere to be seen, he is under his invisibility cloak “Will you come with me?”

Without a second thought, both Ron and Hermione raise from their seats in unison. She smiles at Parkinson who can only give her a strange curious look, wondering what has made them get up. 

Together they leave the Great Hall and slowly walk down the corridor. Destruction all around them, statues lay headless and smashed on the floor, large pieces of the marble staircase are missing, ancient tapestries burnt and torn to tatters and the floor covered in bloodstains every few steps they take.  

Harry retells his story, of his sacrifice to Voldemort, how it was Narcissa Malfoy who betrayed Voldemort for her son, what he had seen in Pensieve, how it helped him know what to do, that it had been Snape who had assisted them in the forest. Guilt burns in Hermione’s stomach over leaving Snape to die as Harry explains that Snape was a spy working with Dumbledore to undermine and destroy Voldemort.

“Still doesn’t justify why he was such an asshole the whole time at school” mutters Ron 

She can only stare at Harry in shock and awe of what Harry has been through and encountered.  

“The stone?” asks Hermione 

“I dropped it in the forest,” says Harry twirling the Elderwand in his hand. Hermione can’t help but stare at the wand, it’s power calling to her.  

“The wand. I’m not going to keep it. I’m going to put it somewhere safe where nobody will find it and when I die, then it’s power will die too” says Harry as he pulls out his broken wand 

Hermione bites her lip, guilt oozes through her veins like gasoline. Harry’s wand broke trying to flee the Snatchers. She had tried desperately to fix it but couldn’t.  

“If this doesn’t work, I guess nothing will” shrugs Harry pointing the Elder wand towards his own wand 

“Reparo” he says 

Hermione watches in wide-eyed awe as a silver stream of light slithers around Harry’s broken wand mending the two pieces back into one.  Relief floods her as she smiles at Harry, he has his wand back.  

“Mate it’s the most powerful wand in the world” exclaims Ron

But Hermione understands. The Elder Wand is real, it’s power would be too tempting for so many people, even for someone as honorable as Harry.

“I think Harry is right” whispers Hermione, there is no more discussion to be had 

The three friends just sit there is silent. Letting out a deep contented breath, Hermione’s thoughts start to become muffled by exhaustion, her muscles ache from tiredness. Sleep pools on her eyelids, after all the running, fighting, strategising, she finally can just relax for a moment. The sudden urge for sleep calls her. She can only think of her four-poster bed in the Gryffindor tower.  

“Maybe, we can go to our common room,” asks Harry his own eyes red with tiredness too

The distant sound of clicking heels nearing them captures their attention. The trio stare down the lonely corridor, Hermione reaches for her wand. Voldemort may be dead, and many Death Eaters captured but there still could be sympathisers to his cause lurking around the castle.  

Hermione’s breath hitches as coming around the corner is Parkinson, who stops suddenly in her tracks, obvious surprise on her face to find them sitting there. 

“C’mon Harry” says Ron tugging at his friend's arm “let’s go back to the common room”

Harry merely nods in agreement, his eyes practically closing, desperate for sleep 

“Hermione?” says Harry once he realises Hermione remains behind

“She’ll catch up,” says Ron shooting Hermione a look “but give me a second” he continues, looking to Hermione before he makes his way towards Parkinson 

Hermione’s heart thumps in her chest, as much as she loves Ron, he could be irrational at times. 

“What’s going on?” asks Harry 

Hermione doesn’t reply, doesn’t know how to reply. Instead, she remains focussed on Ron. Tenseness builds in her chest, her lips open but no sound passes, her eyes widen in dread. She watches silently as whatever Ron says to Parkinson, has her back straightening and eyes narrowing, but before she can retaliate Ron has turned away and walked back to where Harry and Hermione are standing.  

“C’mon Harry. Let’s get some sleep. Ohhh I might have some chocolate frogs still hidden away” says Ron ignoring the inquisitive look Hermione was giving him

“Ron-“ says Harry following Ron with a confused look on his face 

“I don’t know even where to start mate,” says Ron walking away with Harry leaving just Hermione and Parkinson in the Hall. 

Nerves tingle down her legs to the tips of her toes as she walks towards Parkinson, her stomach knotted with excited nerves, her heart beats faster against her chest.  

“Hi” whispers Hermione 

“Hi” replies Parkinson with a demure smile  

Chewing in her bottom lip Hermione is at a loss for words. It’s strange that she should feel so nervous after everything they have been through, how intimate they have already been with each other.  

“You look exhausted,” says Parkinson her eyes filled with sincerity and concern “Did you want to come back to my room?” Back peddling quickly “I mean, to sleep. There’s hardly any Slytherin’s, and your tower would be packed” Parkinson adds her cheeks flushing pink. 

Hermione laughs a small shy laugh “That might be interesting. I didn’t get to see the Slytherin Common Room”

“What do you mean?” says Parkinson curiously “No one other a Slytherin has been in our common room in over 700 years”. 

“Really, is that so,” says Hermione smiling knowingly “Lead the way then”. 

Parkinson gives her a quizzical sideway glance they begin to walk towards the Slytherin Common Room.  

The pass more of the same destruction Harry, her and Ron have passed earlier. Both walking silently as they take on the magnitude of the destruction. Evidence that battles were fought in every corner of the castle assault their eyes with every step they take. But as if by magic, the broken walls and statues end as Parkinson leads Hermione down a marble staircase. This part of the castle has not seen the battle. Hermione an only conclude they are nearing the Slytherin common room, after all, lots of Death Eaters came from Slytherin House, it’s a logical conclusion that battle would not have occurred near the their house common room. 

Parkinson pushes a large wooden door open to reveal a set of stone steps which descend deep down beneath the castle, before stopping in front a bare stretch of stonewall “Pureblood” she mutters and the wall parts to reveal a passageway. 

Shivers race down Hermione’s spine, perhaps this wasn’t a good idea, she has no idea who may be at the end of the passage. But she trusts Parkinson and follows her through.  
Elaborate green lighting hangs from the ceiling casting a multitude if green hues against the rough stone walls and floor. Unlike the Gryffindor passageway that ascends high into a tower, this passageway weaves downwards beneath the surface.    
Parkinson pushes through another door to reveal the Slytherin common room.

A large roaring fire crackles under an elaborately carved mantelpiece, carved chairs adorn the room. Green tapestries hang from the ceiling. In the corner Hermione gasps as she spies an alcove of glass with a lush vintage green chaise, looking straight into the Great Lake. It was like your own private aquarium. It would be perfect for reading a book or just reflecting on life.    
There is an element of grandeur that the Slytherin Common Room has in comparison to the Gryffindor, with its low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas, and dark wood cupboards. Silken tapestries of adventures of famous Slytherin’s decorate the room, it wasn’t as cold or as gloomy as she had expected given Harry’s description of the room back in second year, when they snuck in to find out who the Heir of Slytherin might be. 

“This way” says Parkinson leading Hermione down a few more marble steps. Behind the large wooden ornate door is a room with a number of four poster beds, not dissimilar to the Gryffindor bedrooms, except for the colour. Plush green curtains surround the beds, which are adorned with thick green and silver quilts.  

“You have your own fire,” says Hermione that was definitely one noticeable difference 

“It gets cold under the lake” shrugs Parkinson making her way towards a bed that Hermione notices has Daphne sleeping soundly in. 

“This was Tracey’s bed” says Parkinson pulling the quilt higher over Daphne and tucking her in “They were really close,” she says “She’s taken some sleeping serum” she explains 

Sitting herself down on a nearby bed “This is mine” says Parkinson

Hermione absorbs in the Slytherin surroundings with interest. Parkinson’s bedside table has a number of photos of her with her friends smiling and laughing, a jewelry box with overhanging necklaces and brackets. Hermione smiles as she sits next to Parkinson, beside the photo is a single purple flower, the same flower she left Parkinson that night in the Room of Requirement.  

“Millicent and some of the others that came back are in the infirmary” informs Parkinson kicking off her shoes and sliding under the quilt 

Hermione is silent, nerves tickle her belly as she follows Parkinson’s lead and slides under the quilt. She groans in pleasure as her body sinks into the soft and inviting mattress, engulfing her like a cloud. It had been so long since she had slept in a proper bed. Her cheeks press against the cool, silken pillow. Her muscles pound in her body relieved to finally have rest. Her eyes are heavy, she can barely keep them open as she fights to stay awake. Her eyelids ache. 

“Sleep” whispers Parkinson putting her arm  
around Hermione and pulling her close. Hermione can feel a pair of soft lips kiss her forehead just before she succumbs to the call of sleep.  

****

Her back cracks as she gives out a contented yawn. In her dazed sleepy state, it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the room to realise and remember that she is in the Slytherin’s dormitories and in bed with Pansy Parkinson. Hermione has no idea how long she has been asleep for but it was one of the best she has ever had. She lets her sleepy eyes take in her surrounds, as she breaths our deeply.  

Noticing something hovering at the end of her bed, her eyes shoot open instantly, the blood pumps in her veins as she realises that standing there is Daphne Greengrass staring down at her and Parkinson with an unusual look on her face.

Hermione is at a loss for words. How does she explain why she is in her room, let alone in Parkinson’s bed. Hermione opens her mouth to speak but nothing more than a squeak comes out as she pulls the quilt higher to cup her chin.  

“I’m heading to the infirmary. I’ll be gone a while” says Daphne before heading towards the exit. Her hand on the knob she turns back to Hermione “I’ll lock the door. Oh, and Granger, if you hurt her, I will skin you alive and feed you to the giant squid” warns Daphne calmly before leaving behind a shocked Hermione. 

“Good to know” whispers Hermione turning in bed to face Parkinson.  

Hermione smiles as she takes in all of her features. Parkinson’s breathing is deep and calming, the muscles on her face relaxed in peacefulness, there wasn’t a worry line to be seen. She watches as the sheets gently rise and fall against her body with every breath she takes.  

She smiles mischievously to herself as she tentatively touches Parkinson’s nose with the tip of her finger. She struggles to suppress a giggle as Parkinson twitches. Again she gentle taps Parkinson nose, giggling as Parkinson groans and swipes, still asleep, at Hermione’s finger. A disgruntled groan escapes Parkinson as she pouts disapprovingly. Hermione can’t help but smile as she traces her finger gently along Parkinson’s lips, transfixed by the softness and perfect shape. Her eyelids flutter closed as she leans forward and gently swipes her tongue against Parkinson’s plump lips. 

The blood pumps in her head as Parkinson’s warm breath caresses her lips. Hermione trembles as she brushes her lips against Parkinson’s. Heat flushes through her body as in her sleepy state Parkinson’s responds moving into Hermione’s gentle kiss with a moan. Gently lifting Parkinson’s blouse from her skirt, heat surges through her body as she brushes her fingertips along the soft skin of Parkinson’s waist. Maneuvering herself to be on top of Parkinson she licks and nips down the column of Parkinson’s neck, down her collarbone, downwards undoing the buttons of her blouse as she trails kisses and licks down Parkinson’s stomach, savouring the salty taste of her skin. 

Parkinson’s sleepy moans are devilishly intoxicating as Hermione kisses her way back to Parkinson’s neck, hitching her skirt up as she goes. Goose pimples shimmer down her body as Parkinson arches into Hermione’s touch, her skin burning as their bodies meld together. The sensation of skin against skin sending tingling pleasure down her entire body concentrating around her core. The sound of her own heart thrumming with desire beats in her ears, as Parkinson now finally more alert wraps her arms around Hermione. She hooks her fingers in Parkinson’s underwear lowering them as she continues to kiss and suck at Parkinson’s neck. Trailing her hand up along Parkinson’s inner thigh, two fingers easily slide in between the soft velvety folds of Parkinson’s wet and inviting pussy. Her body shivers as Parkinson moans loudly. Sweat forms on the back of Hermione’s neck as she now pushes two then three fingers deep into Parkinson, moving them rhythmically in and out. 

Hermione moans as Parkinson’s hips move in time as Hermione’s fingers dance against the inner walls of Parkinson’s core.    
Feeling Parkinson’s pussy's tightening painfully around her engulfed fingers. Hermione watches in anticipation, as Parkinson’s face contorts in delectation,  
her body squirming beneath Hermione in absolute adulterated pleasure, the deep stuttering sounds of rapture coming from Parkinson exciting her. Hermione’s own breathing becoming heavier as the throbbing and wetness in her own pussy grows with every deep breath and loud moan from Parkinson increases, as she rides Parkinson into an shivering orgasm.

Struggling to catch her breath Parkinson smiles lazily at Hermione “I could get used to waking up like that” 

Still drunk with lust Hermione draws Parkinson into a searing kiss. Parkinson responds instantly, her hands working their way around Hermione’s body, feeling each crevasse, fuelling the already boiling desire within her.  
Rolling her to her back, Parkinson’s hands continue to explore the curves of Hermione’s body, a deep moan escapes her as Parkinson runs her lips along her neck. A shiver shimmers down her spine as Parkinson breaths hotly in her ear, licking and sucking at her lobe.  
Tugging and pulling Hermione’s top over her head and undoing her bra in one clean move, Parkinson flings the garments to the side of the bed. 

Hermione’s senses are lost to seduction as Parkinson’s lips brush and nip at her breasts, hot, fiery and demanding. Hermione can no longer think straight as Parkinson sucks hard at her nipples, her hands now trailing downwards, snapping open Hermione’s jeans. Her excitement ever building the longing and pressure in her loins with every passing moment. The demanding ache to be touched overwhelming. Her pulse pounds in her head as she arches in to Parkinson’s touch craving release. And when Parkinson begins to nuzzle and kiss down Hermione’s stomach painstakingly slow, lowering her jeans and underwear with every downward movement she thinks she may actually explode.  
Instinctively her back arches towards Parkinson’s hot breath against her pussy. Clutching at the silken sheets, the anticipation of what’s to come unbearable,  
her breath ragged as she waits. Trembling need roaring over her. And then Parkinson’s lips were there, gently caressing, tracing aimless patterns that made her whimper. She needed release, needed Parkinson more than ever.  
Tangling her fingers through Parkinson’s soft hair, Hermione draws herself closer to Parkinson’s teasing lips, unable to control the quivers of desire and want overcoming her. Hermione’s body coming alive as Parkinson gently kisses her soft plump folds. 

A deep throaty moan bursts from her as Parkinson finally flicks her tongue against her aching clit her. She arches high, blood coursing through her veins so vigorously she sees stars, she struggles to catch her breath as she pants and moans with every stroke of Parkinson’s warm tongue. 

Unable to control it any longer, her toes curl as a wave of searing white pleasure cascades through her body, driving her forward to a blinding orgasm.

With legs like jelly she collapses into the mattress, she can hear the aggressive galloping of her heart against her chest. Unable to contain the quivers in her legs, as Parkinson gently kisses her thighs and hip before resting her head on Hermione’s stomach, she tries to regain control of her breathing. Tenderly stroking Parkinson hair Hermione smiles sweetly as their eyes meet full of affection 

“I could get used to this too” whispers Hermione


	17. Pick a number

Epilogue 

Hermione rubs her knuckles deep into her tired eyes, her mind refusing to digest another word from the books laid strewn before her.  Leaning back into her plush leather chair her eyelids flutter shut. Her eyes desperate for some reprieve from the jumble of words on the parchment before her.  
She can feel the warm mid-afternoon sun shining brightly through the windows onto her skin, warming her to the core. She would love to be outside soaking in the rare summer sun, but she can’t, she has to complete this task.

She has been working on this new piece of policy for the Ministry for two months, and now, finally, the first ever piece of policy she has written on her own will be heard before the Wizards Council the day after tomorrow. Despite being assured that it has the support of the Council and that it was very well written, she can’t help but revisit the policy yet again ensuring it’s perfection.

Eyes still closed she hears the gentle clink of a cup and saucer placed before her, just before strong but gentle fingers dig into her shoulder blades. A soft mewl escapes her as the fingers dig in deep attempting to loosening the tight knots, each rub sending her into a heady trance.   
She feels her hair being pushed aside. Warm breath tickling her skin as soft kisses begin to caress her neck like a warm summer breeze.

“Pick a number” comes the soft breathy words before an even softer kiss is placed against the tip of her ear.

Smiling, Hermione shakes her head “I need to look over this again” she says eyes still closed, her neck now arching towards the soft lips of Pansy Parkinson. 

They had taken great pleasure in working their way through all the options outlined in that infamous book from Mrs. Fadington bookshop over the past three years.

The book, well worn, safely tucked away in Pansy’s bedside draws, had become their own special game of sexual investigation and experimentation. Each taking turns in choosing a number between 1 and 101 and fulfilling whatever advice and position the book had depicted on that page. If truth be told they had worked their way through all the positions quite quickly and now were merely repeating the ones they enjoyed the most. 

“You’ve been working on it all weekend” groans Pansy in between wet kisses to Hermione’s neck.

A meek smile escapes her as Pansy gently nibbles on her earlobe. 

“Pansy, please”

Signing defeated “Fine” says Pansy pulling away. 

The sudden loss of Pansy’s touch and kisses a necessary disappointment. I’ll make it up to her once the policy has been heard, thinks Hermione. 

She has been working ridiculously long hours lately, focussing and researching for the policy. She desperately wants to make a good impression to the Ministry Officials.

“How many times have you changed the word and to therefore and then back again?” teases Pansy now sitting herself down opposite Hermione with her own cup of tea. 

Ignoring her taunt Hermione continues to scour over her policy. 

“Longbottom has started dating that Hufflepuff, Abbott, Hannah” says Pansy casually. 

“I heard” says Hermione curtly, refusing to look up from her parchment, hoping Pansy will get the hint to leave her be to concentrate on her work.

“They should make an ok couple. They’re both powderpuffs ” continues Pansy

A flash of annoyance passes through Hermione. As much as she adores spending time with Pansy, she needs to revise this policy, ensure it’s perfection and Pansy’s presence and idol chit chat is making it difficult to concentrate. 

She can feel the weight of Pansy’s stare on her. She wants to vent, tell Pansy to let her be but she doesn’t want to be hurtful. Pansy has been so attentive this weekend.  
Instead, Hermione takes a deep steady breath and focuses on the parchment before her.

“Who do you think the werewolf was that night at Hogwarts?” says Pansy suddenly

“I don’t know,” says Hermione curtly

Hermione’s cheeks flush a little at the memory of the two of them in an embrace in Filches cleaning cupboard with the professors just outside the door. Why would Pansy be bringing that night up wonders Hermione still refusing to look up at Pansy.  It seems like a lifetime ago. So much has happened in that time. A war, losses, and gains. Harry and Ron are well into their aura training. Ginny is doing wonderfully, playing for the professional Quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies. Malfoy and she are even somewhat civil to each other, not that he had many options given the precarious position his family was in after the war. The fact that both Pansy and Daphne threatened to shrink his balls to the size of grapes and feed them to Crookshanks, if he was rude or snide to her may have also factored into his change of heart. 

“Could have been anyone really I suppose” continues Pansy pulling Hermione from her thoughts. 

It is the truth, she has no idea who the werewolf could have been. Perhaps a student, another professor - although unlikely, someone from Hogsmeade was the more likely candidate. All she does know is that in less than 48 hours she will be presenting to the Ministry and she does not want to make a fool of herself, and Pansy’s presence and constant natter is like a fly you can never swat away. 

Every word, movement and breath Pansy takes agitating Hermione that little bit more. It was as if Pansy was doing it on purpose.  
She bites down on her bottom lip, funnelling her frustration into the bite, rather than lashing out at Pansy.

“I just think it might be nice to invite them to our wedding,” says Pansy quickly adding “Lovegood is dating the grandson of Scamander by the way. They can travel the globe finding imaginary beasts”

Smacking her quill down onto the parchment, Hermione can’t control the burning annoyance anymore.   
“Pansy please I just-“. Hermione stops herself mid-sentence. The words Pansy just spoke finally catching up to her brain, taking the wind from her sails. Her heart stops before thumping in her throat.

“Wh- what did you say?”

“Hmmm,” says Pansy peering over her cup of tea trying to hide a coy smile. A devilish glint in her eye. “Lovegood’s dating-“

“No” interrupts Hermione “Before that”

“Longbottom is dating Abbott,” says Pansy cocking her head playfully. The corners of her lips fighting a smile, her eyebrows slightly raised in a vain attempt to look innocent.

“After that”

“Oh just wondering who the werewolf may have been that night we ran into each other,” says Pansy the mischievous smile spreading forming perfect dimples in her cheeks that Hermione finds both adorable and concerning at the same time.   
Hermione’s heart beats rapidly against her chest, her palms begin to clam up.

“Yo- you said to invite them to our wedding” Hermione manages to squeak out. Her eyes frantically searching Pansy’s face for answers. Her foot begins to tap nervously under the table, perhaps she misheard. 

“Seems like the only polite thing to do really. Given if it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t be here right now. Don’t you think?” she says sipping casually from her tea

Unable to contain herself any longer “Pansy Parkinson, are you asking me to marry you?” Hermione blurts out

She holds her breath. Nervous energy tingling through her like an electric current as she waits for Pansy’s reply. 

But rather than answer, Pansy simply nods towards the teacup in front of Hermione. Following her gaze, Hermione gasps as she spies sitting precariously on the teaspoon a stunning ruby, emerald and diamond ring.

Strong vibrant hues of deep rich red and green tones nestled beautifully around a sparkling white diamond. The bright colours of the precious stones dazzling against the combination of yellow and white gold. 

Hermione’s mouth becomes dry, she is unable to form a sentence.  All sound from the room disappears as she merely stares at the fine piece of jewellery. The sunlight shines through the window, beautifully caressing the stones cascading a shimmer of light against the walls. 

“It’s engraved” whispers Pansy her look of playfulness replaces by worry and anxiety as she waits for Hermione’s answer. 

Hermione’s fingers tremble as she picks up the ring. It’s heavier than she expected, a surprise given how delicate and refined the ring looks.   
Hermione gasps, tears begin to swell in the brim of her eyes, written on the inside of the ring in intricate cursive are the words some things are worth dying for.

Her body alights with joy, she lunges from her seat towards Pansy almost toppling her backward as she crashes their lips together. 

Pansy grabs Hermione’s arms to balance herself “so is that a yes?” she manages to muffle out against the lips pressed tightly against her own. 

Hermione can only nod, refusing to part her lips from Pansy’s, as tears of happiness slither down her cheeks.

“Struggling to breath” puffs out Pansy

“Sorry,” says Hermione pulling away and turning to sit on Pansy’s lap “Pansy it’s beautiful,” she says admiring the ring, completely transfixed by the colours and elegant design.

“Well put it on,” Pansy says wrapping her arms tightly around Hermione’s waist.

She can’t keep the smile spreading across her face as she slips the ring on her finger admiring the glittering jewels on her outstretched hand.

In the sunlight, it glitters brighter than a night full of stars. Polished and cut to perfection, the red and green hues so vivid giving off an ethereal glow.

Her chest swells, the intense feeling of love and happiness burning through her hotter than 100 suns. 

She feels Pansy’s hands rub along her back, her lips kissing her shoulder blade. “I suppose I better let you get back to it” breaths out Pansy “we can celebrate after Council” the hint of disappointment ever evident in her voice. 

Hermione looks at the papers and books scattered on the wooden table. Her shoulders sag a little. She should look over her work at least one more time, but - biting down on her bottom lip she looks back down to the ring sitting proudly on her finger.  The words engraved on the inside seem to be seeping into her skin.  She has made her decision.

“69,” says Hermione turning to face Pansy, a new smile crossing her face

“What?”

“69, I pick number 69,” says Hermione drawing Pansy into a passionate and deep kiss.


End file.
